Coyote Ugly: Memoirs of a New York B&
by Rogue Amazon Boo
Summary: Rachel is a Coyote. She’s as tough and sassy as they come but what has life been like behind her hard as nails mask? This Coyote has a secret that nobody would have ever imagined. Story revised and still complete.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the motion picture Coyote Ugly, they are the property of someone else; I just don't know who. They just aren't mine…dammit.

Rating: If it was a movie it would be R, but as a fan fic just to be safe I will say NC-17.

A/N: I don't usually revisit my pervious work, but since this is one of my favorites I decided that it was high time I cleaned it up a bit. So, here is the revision, hopefully it will be easier to read. I hope in six years I have become a better writer and hopefully it will show.

**Coyote Ugly: Memoirs of a New York bitch**

**By**

**Rogue Amazon Boo**

"Do we serve water in this bar," a very obnoxious, tall brunette asked the rowdy bunch of patrons from behind the bar.

The crowd, consisting mostly of regulars, started the chant of the newcomer's doom. They knew it had to be a newcomer because only an idiots and madmen attempted to order water at Coyote Ugly twice.

"Hell no H2O, Hell no H2O," reverberated off the four walls and behind the bar Rachel pointed the soda gun at the patron and doused him in water.

Two other girls, both blondes, sprayed the crowd with seltzer water while Lil, the owner, watched in approval; pouring out five shots of Josè for one of the guests.

It was just another night at Coyote Ugly, one of the most popular bars in New York City. Cammie, the Russian tease, got up on the bar with the other blond Rebecca, and started dancing to the remix version of "She makes me wanna die." The crowd went wild as both young women gyrated to the music.

Rebecca, who back before she came to New York had been a gymnast, did a back hand spring into a split and then rolled into another turn while Cammie proceeded to dance with the pole at the other end of the bar. At the back of the bar a tall, built man with sandy blond haired, dressed in jeans, a white collar-less shirt, and a black leather jacket, watched the antics with something akin to horror.

Detective Nathan Boudreaux, born and raised in Baton Rouge, had known, like every good southern boy knows, that Yanks were collectively insane but he hadn't really expected the bar to actually live up to the fantastical stories he had heard.

Noticing her former partner's slightly overwhelmed look Jessie McIntyre-Leland, a petite red head with a body to die for and a mind as sharp as her tongue, leaned in and twisted the knife a little more.

"You look scared Boudreaux," she said, a teasing gleam in her eye. Nathan turned a vacant look on his old partner and friend.

"I just didn't expect this to be quite so…colorful."

"Well look at it this way, at least they haven't set the bar on fire tonight."

Jessie watched, delighted, as Nathan paled even more. For a big city cop her old friend was sure easy to get too. It must be all that southern genteel breeding.

"We didn't have anything like this in New Orleans," Nate drawled, a hint of French Creole accent coloring his words.

Jessie, who was New York born and bred, had always envied Nate that drawl. It was the perfect cover because it made people underestimate the southern detective and her old partner knew how to use it to his best advantage. She on the other hand still had her street girl savvy lit from the Bronx; even three years of living in Louisiana hadn't cured her of it.

Jessie thought back to when she and Nathan had first met. She had been fresh out of the academy and eager to see other places besides New York, so when the opportunity to relocate to Baton Rouge came she jumped on it. When she had first met her blond haired, blue eyed, slow talking, and drop dead gorgeous friend, she had immediately figured he would be a push over. How wrong she had been.

Nate had the tenacity of a bulldog and they had grown to respect each other in the three years they worked vice together. Nathan had eventually been promoted to a Narcotics division in New Orleans and Jessie had found that Baton Rouge just wasn't the same without her partner.

So, she had moved back to New York, married her old high school sweetheart Eric Leland, and risen to the rank of homicide detective. Now, she and Nate were back in the same division, even though they weren't partnered together. Life had a funny way of coming full circle.

"Tell me Nate, what's Mr. I haven't had a social life since eating playdough with Mary-Ann Bell in the third grade doing at one of the hottest bars in the city."

Jessie teased, leaning in a bit to be heard. Nate didn't bother with an answer, settling for a glare. He didn't want to tell Jessie that the reason he was here was now dancing on the bar with the other two blondes to Warrants' _Cherry Pie_.

Watching the lithe brunette as she strutted on the bar he thought back to this morning and the reason for this insanity.

_"Hey Boudreaux!" _

_Nate turned and saw a uniform he'd meet at a bust a couple of weeks ago walking towards him.._

"_Al," he greeted with some trepidation._

_Al was notorious for his practical jokes and he was the newbie in the precinct. He wouldn't put it pass the older man to try and pull a fast one on him. Nate eyes drifted to the man at Al's side, a massive African American officer he didn't know._

_"What do you want Al. I'm in the middle of the paperwork for the Anderson case." _

_The older cop grinned. _

_Al was well into middle age and not showing it well. His beer belly, hanging jowls, and bulbous nose made him look like Santa just coming of a three-day bender. The guy next to him was about the same age but in considerably better shape. Nate had met trucks that were smaller than him._

_"I was just telling Clarence here about how Jessie was telling us how all the ladies use to just fall all over you. Something about all your southern golden boy charm. I was saying hows I bet I know a lady that could shoot you down."_

_Al was grinning and Nathan almost groaned aloud._

_"No way Al, no bets. Jessie warned me about you and your bets," he replied, good-naturedly. The beefy little man looked wounded and flung a fleshy arm around Nathan's shoulders._

_"I'm hurt that you would have so little trust in me," Al said, while maneuvering the younger detective out in the hall. "I tell you what. As a show of my good faith I'll make the bet small…say a round for me and the boys at Pete's, alls you gotta do is turn on that charm and try to get a phone number." _

_Nate gave Al a suspicious look. He also didn't like the fact that Clarence was grinning at him like he had the punch line to a very funny joke; one he knew involved him making an ass of himself._

_"Look, I'm sure that you could find someone else to…" he started to say and then abruptly stopped speaking. _

_Down the hall, lounging in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that the department had in the waiting area, was a gorgeous brunette decked out in leather. Nate felt his jaw drop as his eyes followed her long, black leather clad legs to the matching fringed, black top that left her midriff bare. _

_Her dark, softly curled hair cascaded around her face and down to her shoulders and the package was completed by high cheekbones, a full, luscious mouth, and eyes that he would bet his life were hazel._

_She was leaning her head back against the wall with her eyes closed so she hadn't seen him ogling her. Al noted the younger man's interest with a malicious little grin._

_"And I see you have found our object of seduction," he taunted. Nathan almost choked in surprise._

_"Her!"_

_"Her," Al drawled and then added._

_"All you gotta do is get a phone number golden boy." _

_Boudreaux looked from one officer to the other. They weren't even trying to hide their cat-that-ate-the-canary grins._

_"What is she guys, a prostitute that you paid to shoot me down," he said on a little laugh._

_But even as he said it Nate knew the woman wasn't a prostitute. A cop didn't work three years in vice without being able to spot a working girl a mile away in a hurricane._

_"Even better, she's a coyote," Al replied. Nathan was about to ask just what the hell a coyote was, when Al interrupted._

_"Look Remy McSwain, we ain't got all day. Just go get a phone number."_

_Al gave him a little push when he hesitated and tried not to wince at the nickname that everyone in the department seemed to be batting around. _

_He didn't look that much like Dennis Quaid and he was nothing like his character Remy from __The Big Easy__ but he figured saying something about it would just make them use it more._

_He sighed, let it go, and asked._

_"What do I get if I win this bet of yours?"_

_"I do your paperwork for a week," Al replied. _

_It was already well known how much Nate hated paper work. He was constantly cursing his computer after a big case and even the bravest officer wouldn't approach in the morning with more paperwork until they had plied him with at least two cups of the department sludge that passed as coffee. _

_So when Nathan threw him a cocky grin and said, "You Yankee boys watch how we do it in the south." Al wasn't at all surprised. _

_With a grin the devil might have worn after tricking you out of your soul Al watched the golden boy detective approach Rachel Barnes. He just hoped her anger management classes were going well, he would hate to see the southern boy laid out flat in his first month._

_Rachel sighed and leaned her head against the hard, cool wall of the police station. She had a hell of a hangover and was not in the mood to hear her anger management instructor with his feel good crap about breathing and positive imagery._

_It was no wonder most of the people that went through these stupid classes were back in the station on battery charges within a month. Hell she was about ready to assault the hippie guru herself just so she wouldn't have to come back. _

_So when a distinctly southern; distinctly male voice off to her left brought her aching head up from the blessed relief of the wall she was less than pleased._

_"Excuse me, ma'am," it drawled._

_It was a nice voice Rachel realized as she opened her eyes. The smiling, built sandy blond haired man it went with wasn't bad either, too bad he had cop written all over him in permanent ink. It was also too bad that she just wasn't in the mood._

_"No," she said, glaring._

_Nathan was taken aback. All he'd said was excuse me and she was already giving him the cold shoulder. Hazel, he thought, as an after thought. Hazel eyes the color of good whiskey, he'd been right. Keeping his smile in place he started to say._

_You don't even know what I'm going…" she cut him off._

_"No, I don't want to go out with you, no, I don't want to fuck you, and no, I won't let you wear my ass as a hat," she said succinctly, leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes. _

_This time Nathan was less taken aback and more along the lines of completely floored. Still, since surrender was not a word in his vocabulary._

_"I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Nathan Boudreaux and you are?" _

_He kept his voice even and charming and she gave him a withering look._

_"Not interested."_

_"Whoa cher, hold on a minute, at least tell me…" _

_Again Rachel didn't let him finish. Her eyes flashed opened and she leaned forward quickly grabbing hold of his tie. Rachel used the silky material to reel him in until they were face to face, tightened it until it was choking him, and threw the situation down._

_"Look, you are obviously new here so I'll make this very clear and use small words so you'll understand. First, I do not date cops and when I say I am not interested walk away. Second, I have a hangover the size of the state of New York and you are not helping. Third, in about ten minutes, I have to go listen to doctor feel good tell me that my fucking attitude needs adjusting when the only thing I want to do is rearrange his face so I can go take a nap. And now, I have a good lil' old southern boy who doesn't have the brain capacity to take no for an answer. My day is blowing already and it hasn't even begun yet. Now get lost."_

_The speech was beautifully put, calculated to cut a man up into little itty-bitty pieces and leave his ego on the floor, which is why Rachel was shocked when instead of pulling back in anger like most guys would have, Nathan, as he called himself, leaned in and brushed his lips gently over hers. _

_With a growl she let go of his tie and pushed him back and he hit the floor laughing. Rachel fought the urge to run her fingers over her lips; she felt like he had burned her and it wasn't even a real kiss. Shaken, and seriously thinking about giving him a swift kick in the groin, she stood up and started to walk away._

_"What's your name," he called after her still laughing. She didn't answer; instead she quickened her step. She should have kicked him she thought, disgusted._

_Clarence and Al were practically rolling on the ground when Nathan finally found the motivation to pick himself up off the floor. He made his way over to the uniform and his friend._

_"You set me up Al," he drawled and pulled out a couple of twenties from his wallet. It was more than enough for the round of drinks he owed._

_"You were right," Clarence said between belly laughs, "southern boy was a lamb to the slaughter."_

_"Yeah but what a way to go," Al added, jamming a playful elbow in the big man's stomach._

_"Ok you had your fun. So tell me her name since she didn't see fit to mention it before murdering my ego."_

_Nathan tried to sound nonchalant but he must not have succeeded because both Al and Clarence instantly stopped laughing._

_"Why do you want to know," Al asked, suspicious. Nate sighed._

_"Look Al, I'm not going to give the lady any trouble. I just want to know her name."_

_The uniform smirked._

_"Rachel Barnes," he answered._

_"I don't suppose you know were she works?" Nate asked. This time Clarence was the one to narrow his eyes and reluctantly answer._

_"She's a coyote." _

_"And what's a Coyote do?" _

_The other men just shrugged and Nathan felt like he was pulling information out of a particularly difficult snitch. Finally, with a twinkle in his eye and a grin curving his lips, Al cryptically replied._

_"Figure that out Remy and maybe you will see her again. Come on Clarence the drinks are on the golden boy." _

_The two uniforms walked away leaving Nate to figure out just how to find Rachel Barnes again._

Nathan was brought back to reality as screaming hormone, that was trying to pass himself off as a person, got pulled up next to the bar and he watched as the girls poured a whole bottle of southern comfort into the guy's open mouth and down his shirt.

He frowned. He almost regretting taking Al's riddle and figuring it out; still if he hadn't he wouldn't be here now watching Rachel shake her very impressive ass on the top of a wood topped bar.

Nate wasn't sure exactly how he felt about that so he decided to have mixed feelings for now and he was forced to admit that he was getting use to the atmosphere the longer he hung around.

Jessie happened to notice the direction of his gaze and with a knowing look she answered the question he had yet to give her a satisfactory answer for.

"Ah, I had heard someone had a run in with Rachel but I didn't know it was you. A word of advice my friend, that girl has teeth and she gives new meaning to the word untouchable."

When Nate didn't say anything Jessie's look turned from knowing to worried.

"Oh man, tell me you haven't gone and gotten yourself hooked on a coyote? Listen to me Nate that girl has more walls than China and she will chew her arm off and yours just to get away."

Nathan shot his former partner his most charming, boyish grin.

"Jessie you are reading too much into this."

Jessie, knowing her former partner like she did, knew when he was more than just casually interest in a woman. He had the look now, the one he got when a lady really got her hooks in him.

"Nate I mean it, you need to be careful."

"I'm always careful," he said, grinning.

Jessie gave him a look that said she wasn't buying it and he lifted a tender hand to her cheek and looked straight into her green eyes.

"Don't worry about me so much, cher. I know what I'm doing."

His former partner just rolled her eyes and sighed. She had a feeling that he was going to do this with or without her blessing.

"Fine if you insist on this suicidal mission then I might as well introduce you to an old friend. Come on."

Jessie motioned for him to follow her as she made her way through the patrons to the bar. Intrigued, he pushed his way after her until he was standing with her at the far right end.

Rachel was at the other end feeding shots into a rowdy bunch of twenty-plus-year olds. Nathan pegged the group instantly; bachelor party. His attention was dragged away from the object of his obsession by a loud delighted cry of "Jessie!"

Nate turned; surprised by the light of greeting in the eyes of the blond haired woman behind the bar. His surprise turned to shock with the next words out of his old friend's mouth.

"Nate I want you to meet Lil, she owns the place and she is also my old boss. Lil this is Nathan Boudreaux my former partner from Baton Rouge.

"You worked here!"

To say he was surprised would have been and understatement and Jessie grinned wider. Lil added her own grin and one of her patented comments.

"You were right about him; cute, but not too bright." Nathan flushed and glared at his former partner and then grinned, rueful.

"She's right you know. I'm dumb as post. I have just been charming the criminals off the streets for seven years."

Jessie rolled her eyes.

"You were right Lil, when you told me that men are the weaker sex. I have known this guy for three years and he still can't take a joke."

"I'm always right Jess, you should know that by now," she replied with a smile and turned to Nate. "So what'll it be?"

He grinned. He was perversely tempted to say water but decided that he'd had about all the abuse he could take tonight.

"Corona and a shot of southern comfort."

"I like a man who knows what he wants."

She winked at Jessie, who was grinning at the way Nate flushed. At least she was until Nate got that unholy twinkle in his eye that said loud and clear he was about to do something supremely stupid.

"Actually Lil I'm glad you said that. If you wouldn't mind could you have Rachel pour for me?"

A glint of suspicion passed through Lil's eyes but the glint swiftly turned to one of calculation and amusement. Nathan suspected the source of her amusement and confirmed his suspicion when he looked in the mirror behind the bar.

Jessie was behind him pretending to hang herself from an invisible noose. When his eyes met hers in the mirror she stopped, but not before running a finger across her throat. Lil, who had been watching the exchange intently, laughed at the two detectives. In her experience cops were worse than children were when it came to teasing each other.

"Yeah I have a death wish but could you all forget that for now and just humor me."

Lil smirked.

"Your funeral," she said and then yelled. "Rachel...customer!"

Rachel had been busy fending off one of the more amorous of the bachelor party boys by throwing him into the waiting arms of his friends. She then turned and hazel eyes met blue. Her whiskey gaze narrowed and he smiled.

For a split second it seemed like she wasn't going to come over but at the last instant her indecision turned into resolve. She stalked over to him making it a point to ignore him.

"Yeah Lil, what do you want?" She asked.

"She wants you to pour an old friend a drink Rach," Jessie said.

If Nathan was stunned before then he was knocked straight onto his ass now. He watched as Rachel smiled a crooked, half smile and reached across the bar to hug the petite redhead.

"Well I'll be damned. The lady cop comes home to the coyotes."

"Do you know everybody," Nathan said turning to Jessie. His former partner grinned and shrugged her shoulders.

"I had to pay for the academy somehow and I just happened to do that working here. Rachel here taught me everything there was to know about being a coyote. Who do you think got the charges reduced and put in a good word in for her when Al busted her for battery a few months ago."

He groaned. "I feel like I have been set up from the beginning"

He looked to Rachel, smiled at her, and found that she wasn't smiling back.

"You know this guy Jess," she said accusingly. Jessie didn't blink.

"Yep, he was my partner back in Baton Rouge. I'd introduce you but I know you have already met."

Just then Lil called for quiet through the megaphone they kept behind the bar. Nathan, who had been feeling like someone sucker punched him in the gut, started feeling a little better as he watched his friend pale to a ghostly shade of white.

"Listen up everybody; we have a special visitor here tonight. She's a lady cop, one of New York's finest, but you all know her better as Jessie, one of the original coyotes."

Nate watched amused, as his friend started shaking her head.

"Dammit Lil, I'm a paying customer now! You can't do this to me," she wailed. Nathan smirked; he had never heard her wail before and Lil, of course, ignored her completely.

"Come on everybody put your hands together for Jessie."

The petite redhead glared at her old boss, who was in the process of pulling her up on the bar. The crowd had also started to get into the action chanting, "Jessie, Jessie, Jessie."

"Come on Jess, once a coyote always a coyote." Lil tugged and Jessie growled, but allowed herself to be pulled on top of the bar.

Nathan had been enjoying watching his always unflappable partner get suckered in to dancing on the bar. He was also thoroughly enjoying watching his former partner shake her grove thing to the B-52s' _Love Shack_, until a slightly annoyed voice brought him back to the reason he was there in the first place.

"She's married you know," Rachel said, while popping the top to the Corona he had ordered.

"I know. I was the best man."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm probably asking for a black eye but I would really like to get your phone number."

She shot him a scathing look.

"Are you just brain damage from beating your head against a wall or are you really this stupid?" Rachel asked while she poured two more shots for another patron. She slid them down the bar and turned back to Nate. "I told you southern boy, I don't date cops."

"Who said anything about dating? I was just talking about strictly no contact talking," he replied, his expression innocent. "You don't even have to talk about yourself. We can talk about the weather, birds, work…whatever. And just to let you know I don't think your ass would look good on me as a hat. I look better in baseball caps."

Rachel couldn't help it, she smiled, and then just as quickly forced her mouth back into a scowl, but it was too late. Nate had already seen it.

"That was a smile; don't try to deny it I'm a trained observer. I notice these little things," he said triumphantly and took a swig of his beer.

Rachel just smiled an evil, mischievous smile and leaned in to whisper in his ear. Nathan was distracted at first by her warm breath caressing his skin but her words finally sunk in.

"If that's so then why are you drinking Jordan's beer," she said sweetly and walked away.

Jordan, as it turned out, was a rather large man dressed in biker's leather. He was currently scowling at Nate while cracking the knuckles of his large hands. Nathan quickly apologized and backed away from the giant and once he was clear of the biker he looked for Rachel and spotted her at the other end of the bar.

Knowing that he was just asking for punishment he started to make his way towards Rachel again, until he saw her grab Lil, yell something in her ear, and vault the side of the bar. He watched her lithe frame slink through the patrons toward a handsome, dark haired guy that was grinning at her like an idiot.

She didn't look happy to see him at all. Not sure why he felt so compelled to find out what was going on he shot a glance at Jessie to make sure she was all right and then followed Rachel and the mystery man outside.


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel cursed as she looked across the room and saw the last person on earth she ever wanted to see again. It figured and it was just her luck, she gets rid of one annoyance only to trade him for another. Still at least the cute cop wasn't an asshole like the little weasel currently grinning at her from across the room.

What also really ticked her off was the fact that this weasel had seen her naked. Ex-boyfriends tend to have bragging rights to that, but she really didn't have to like it. With a groan Rachel turned to Lil and pulled her aside.

"I have to go take care of something," she yelled to the other woman and vaulted the bar to go see what Tony wanted.

Tony McNamara believed he was God's gift to the female sex and once, when she was young and stupid, she had believed she loved him. She had believed right up to the time she walked in on him screwing her best friend and gotten her arrested for possession of an illegal substance.

Apparently Tammy had been a bad little girl and gotten hooked on ecstasy and Tony had been using her as a fuck buddy while supplying her with her daily fix. Rachel had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the cops had rushed in and arrested everyone in the room.

Ever since then Tony had been turning up in her life like a bad, disease riddled penny. He usually came to her for money and had tried, only once, to come to her for sex. The broken nose she had given him had managed to deter him from anymore amorous pursuits of her. Dodging most of her male patrons roving hands she reached her ex and promptly dragged him out of the bar by his hair.

"Hey bab…" he had tried to say and ended it with a loudly yelped, "Ow!"

Rachel didn't even break her stride, she just pulled him outside. Lou the large, bald headed bouncer opened the door for her without a word and Rachel made sure they were well away from the club before she let him go.

"All right Tony, what is this? Have you forgotten the rules so quickly? You never come to see me here. I don't care if there a comet is about to crash into the fucking tri-state area and you are the only one left alive to warn me that I am about to die. You never come here. I will not lose my job over a selfish little prick like you," she spat.

Tony glared at her while rubbing his head gingerly.

"I'm sorry babe but I had not choice. Man, I'd forgotten what a caste iron bitch you are."

He calmly pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it and Rachel made an effort not to appear affected by the comment but it hurt. She hated that it hurt, but Tony was naively what she considered her first love, and he knew it the slime ball. He knew that he could hurt her and wallowed happily in that fact like a pig in mud.

She sighed. "Just get to the fucking point Tony and tell me what hell you want."

"Money," he said.

"I just gave you money last week. Maybe you should try getting a job. Better yet just ask dear old dad for a loan."

Tony grinned and tsked at her.

"Rach, you know better than that. You keep forgetting that one call and…poof, everything you love goes up in smoke."

Rachel started shaking as she glared hard at the weasel and felt hatred clench her stomach.

"How much," she spat and he laughed.

"A grand," he said and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Rachel scowled and pulled out a roll of bills the size of a small fist. She peeled off a few bills and handed them to him.

"There is seven hundred, it's all I can give you today."

Tony smiled as he counted the money and then saluted her.

"Pleasure doing business with you Rach."

He turned and walked away. Rachel ground her teeth as he disappeared, wishing hell would decided to open up and take him early. Her wish wasn't granted.

Her mood black she turned to go back inside the bar, when a softly, southern accented voice drifted from the shadows and stopped her.

"What has he got on you?"

The question hung in the night air heavy with accusation and Rachel turn on the interloper with whiskey eyes flashing.

"Do all cops lurk in corners and butt into other people's business or are you just special that way?"

Nathan stepped out of the shadows to face her, all the normal good cheer having drained from his eyes.

He was wearing what Rachel knew was his cop face, that hard mask that reveled nothing and guarded thoughts and feelings better than a Halloween mask. It was the face her granddad had worn when he had bailed her ass out of jail after the Tony fiasco.

Nate sighed. "It's what we do best. Look Rachel, if you are in some kind of trouble maybe I can…" he tried to say but was cut off mid-sentence by her bitter laughter.

"You can what? Help me? Listen boy scout I know you lil' old southern boys believe in protecting your womenfolk but I was taking care of myself long before you came here and I will be taking care of myself long after you're gone. Now I have to get back before Lil sends out a search party."

With that parting shot Nathan watched her go. Jessie had been right about her, she was trouble with a capital T. He knew and at least the cop part of him knew that he should probably just wash his hands of her now.

Women like her were a walking time bomb for someone in his profession. He also knew that despite that fact he was going to help her. It was probably akin to committing professional suicide and God knew she wouldn't appreciate it, but dammit he couldn't walk away.

Maybe it was the false sense of bravado he sensed coming from her, or maybe it was some long ingrained chivalrous instinct. He wasn't sure but as he studied her retreating form in the moonlight he had a feeling it had more to do with the single tear she couldn't stop running down her cheek from tortured eyes before she turned away from him.

* * *

It was a cool morning for this time of year in the city which was why the man's body didn't smell quite as bad as it should have. Detective Jessie Leland placed a handkerchief over her nose to ward of the smell.

The corpse was an adult male in his late twenties. He had been shot cleanly in the back of the head execution style by a small caliber gun. Jess noted all these facts in a glance but it would take the corner's report to prove her correct.

With a sigh she stepped away from the body and checked her watch for the third time. It was just her luck that her partner would be on sick leave and she would be waiting for some rookie detective for back up. She had told her commanding officer that she could handle things until Lofton got back but he had insisted on sending someone. She looked at her watch again and cursed, that someone was twenty minutes late and she was tired of being patient.

Not only that, but the body had already drawn a crowd of curiosity seekers. The uniforms were keeping them at bay but soon the media wolves would descend on the scene. She wanted this to be done with before they got here.

Just as she was about to chuck it all and go ahead with the investigation a familiar car pulled up. When a very familiar blond man got out of the car she had to say that she wasn't really that surprised. She was also very happy to see him.

Jessie smirked. "You're late Boudreaux,"

He grinned and walked toward her, flashing his badge to the uniform on crowd control to gain entry into the crime scene.

"I got lost," he replied, a bit sheepishly. She tried not to laugh and managed to keep it down to a smirk in respect for the dead.

"What do we have, cher?"

The female detective's smirk turned into a scowl as she led him over to the victim.

"We have a male Caucasian, late twenties; early thirties, with a single GSW to the back of the head. Weapon was probably small caliber; possibly a .22, since most of his brains haven't leaked on to my good shoes."

Once at the body Nathan knelt down, careful to avoid touching anything, his trained eye roving over the corpse in search of answers. The victim's face was in profile and the detective sucked in a sharp surprised breath when he realized who the dead man was. Jess noticed Nate's reaction and narrowed her eyes.

"What is it Boudreaux?" She asked. He stood up and faced her with a grave expression on his face.

"I know him Jess, his name is Tony." Jessie waited a moment for him to continue and then sighed in exasperation.

"What is he one of those one name freaks like Madonna or are you going to tell me his last name?"

Nate shook his head.

"I don't know his last name but I know someone who does."

Jessie shot him a searching glare that told him he'd better spill. When he didn't, she grabbed his arm and pulled him out of earshot of forensics and the other cops.

When they were far enough away she dropped his arm and narrowed her green eyes.

"What's with you? You're acting like you have something to hide?"

He winced.

"I saw this guy outside of Coyote Ugly last week. He was arguing with Rachel, more importantly he was blackmailing her."

Jessie's look turned grim.

"Are you sure it was a shakedown?" Hoping he was mistaken, knowing that he wasn't. Nate didn't make mistakes like that.

"Yeah I'm sure. He had something on her; I just don't know what."

"Shit," she cursed and ran a hand through her long, red hair, mussing it.

"One of us is going to have to go talk to her."

"Let me do it," he offered.

Jess started shaking her head.

"No, I should go. After all she's my friend."

"Which is why I should go, cher. The captain will see less of a conflict of interests if I question her."

A very unlady like snort was his partner's response.

"Nate, if I go down for that one I'm taking you with me," she said. He narrowed his eyes.

"What's that suppose to mean, cher?"

Jessie repressed her shiver, she had never known a French endearment could sound so menacing. Still he asked the question so she was going to give him an answer, even it he wasn't going to like it.

"I know that you have been at Coyote Ugly every night for the past week, and don't tell me that you were just trying to get a date. Did you forget that Lil is an old friend of mine when you decided to go play Batman?"

Nathan had the good grace to wince slightly at her biting accusation. He hadn't forgotten about Lil being friends with Jessie he had just thought he had managed to stay out of sight. He should have known better.

"So what? I wanted to see if I could catch the parasite blackmailing her. It doesn't much matter now that someone seems to have solved the problem for me," he defended.

Jess looked at him like she wanted to shake some sense into him.

"Oh come on Nate, you're a good cop and despite the shit load of denial that seems to have dropped your IQ to that of a garden slug you know exactly how this God damn cape crusader bullshit is going to look."

"Why didn't you say something earlier if it was bothering you that much?"

"Because last week I didn't have a dead body on my hands; a body, I might add, that is gonna make my old friend our number one suspect."

Nate looked around to make sure that no one was paying attention to them and relaxed when he saw that the uniforms still looked bored by crowd control duty.

"Come on Jess you can't really believe that Rachel…" he said trailing off at the dark look she shot him.

"That Rachel what? Could kill someone? Hell yes, I believe Rachel could kill someone but she sure as hell wouldn't do it the way this guy was iced. Rachel is a fighter, you push her and she will push back. If I were hauling her ass in for killing someone it would be because they tried to kill her, or tried to kill someone she loved. This execution style shit just wouldn't wash with her. The problem is that both you and I know the captain isn't going to see it that way."

"I agree with you if that means anything but I still think that I'm the one who should go talk to her. At least the captain doesn't know that I have any personal feelings towards Rachel whereas everyone at the station knows that you were a coyote."

Jess gave her partner a long hard look and sighed.

"All right you go, but watch yourself. If she thinks you're threatening her she will clam up."

He grinned. "Trust me; I know what I'm doing."

Jessie didn't look all that convinced but she didn't argue, instead she tried for a tentative smile of encouragement. Nate grinned back, communicating a silent thank you. He just hoped that he wasn't biting off more than he could chew.

* * *

Nathan stood outside apartment four o' five and stared at the door like it held all the secrets of the universe. He had left the crime scene directly and come straight to Rachel's home.

With a sigh he ran a frustrated hand through his sandy blond hair. This was not how he wanted to see her place. He had been hoping that he would be able to wear her down enough to go on a date with him, which is why even though he had her address and phone number from her police record he hadn't used it to find her.

Hell, he felt bad knowing what he did from her file. A lot of it didn't really surprise him. She had some petty stuff from when she was a kid; at least she did until she was about fourteen. At that point her record became spotless, which meant that she either got smart or someone took an interest in her well being.

He had a feeling it was the latter, simple because when he met her he felt like she was playing it straight with him. She just didn't have any of the marks of a shifty criminal.

The only other things on her record were a drug charge for possession when she was twenty that someone had dropped, and the battery charges from a few months ago. He frowned and stared at the door for another five minutes before he got up enough courage to knock.

"Just a minute," a familiar voice called from within.

Nate was amused to find Rachel sounding almost cordial. He knew that when she saw him it wouldn't last. He heard a number of locks being drawn back and finally the door opened.

He got his first good look at her outside of Coyote Ugly and he was surprised. Her face was free of the make-up she wore to work and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her long legs, usually well defined by something skin tight, were hidden in the baggy gray sweats she wore and a white form fitting tank top hugged her slime torso.

The last thing he noticed was her bare feet and the hint of red painted toenails that peeked at him from beneath the cuffs of the baggy sweats.

He blinked. He was surprised at the splash of color. He hadn't seen her as the nail polish type for some reason. All in all she looked like she was about seventeen years old. The only thing that was left to remind him that she was a coyote was the fire flashing in her whiskey eyes.

The moment those eyes realized exactly who had come calling at her door they narrowed. Rachel then made a big production of crossing her arms, leaning against the doorjamb, and giving him a through once over before she spoke. Nate felt like she had stripped him naked with that gaze.

"I knew that cops were persistent but this is ridiculous. We have stalker laws in this state you know," she said, snidely.

Nate decided that he should clear the air as soon as possible. He was also getting a little tired of the verbal sparring sessions every time he saw her so this time he took the offensive.

"I wish this were a social call cher, but I'm afraid that I have to ask you some questions about a dead man we found this morning. Can I come in or do you want to come with me downtown. Either way I'm not going to do this in the hall and risk getting into a ball breaking match with you."

It was probably the most forcefully he had ever spoken to a woman but it had its desired affect. Rachel glared at him once, uncrossed her arms and retreated back into the apartment.

Nathan took his time entering half-expecting Rachel to come at him with a baseball bat; also he was curious what her place would look like. He had found in his years as a cop that the places people lived in could tell you a lot about them. The first thing he noticed was that it was clean but cluttered.

A modern brown leather couch shared the same space as a beat up recliner that had been fashionable in the early fifties. Baseball memorabilia also shared the same wall as a collection of porcelain fairies. It was the fairies that delighted him the most because they reminded him of Rachel.

There was an otherworldly inhuman beauty in them that no mortal would ever really understand.

He felt that way about Rachel. All she had done since they met was insult him and yet here he was back for more punishment. She was a bayou witch, a voodoo priestess that had entranced him. She was everything mysterious about the swamps that he had spent his summers in with his Creole grandparents since the age of five. He was terrified of her and drawn to her at the same time. Shaking off his fanciful thoughts he turned to face her.

"The man you were talking to outside of the bar last week. What was his full name," Nathan asked.

She had been watching him roam the apartment for the last five minutes but his voice still gave her a start of surprise. The man moved like a cat on the prowl. He was so silent that even if he were in the same room with you, you would forget that he was there.

Rachel felt again like she had before that there was something almost predatory about him and yet unlike other guys who had the same look she knew that she wasn't his prey. He almost made her feel safe, and that was probably scarier than feeling stalked. Stalked she could defend against, safe was an entirely different matter.

"Why is that any of your business?" she spat to cover her disturbing feelings. "I told you Boy Scout that it was my problem and that I am taking care of it."

"Sorry cher, but it has just become my problem."

She stiffened at the endearment and he frowned. It was a habit with him when talking to women to use the French endearment for dear, he had picked it up from his grandfather many years ago and it was meant as a sign of affection. He meant no disrespect but he could tell that Rachel thought he was patronizing her.

"Look southern boy, I know you have this white knight complex but I you sure as hell ain't my Lancelot and I will never be your Guinevere. I told you. I got it covered."

"I wish it were that simple. Your problem is now lying dead in an alley behind a Korean fish market, which makes him my problem. I need you to talk to me Rachel. I know he was blackmailing you and I have to find out if you had anything to do with it."

Rachel, who had figured that the dead body excuse, was just that, an excuse, was floored to say the least. She turned wide shocked hazel eyes on the detective before sinking boneless into a nearby chair.

"Tony…dead," she said in a small voice. She didn't realize it but she was starting to tremble. "Oh God at least when he was alive I could see…" she started to say but stopped when she noticed the interested and concerned look Nate was giving her.

The hard nose bitch immediately descended back behind her eyes and Nathan knew he was now facing the New York bitch of Coyote Ugly. It was too bad; he had been enjoying his glimpse into the person underneath, the real her, but it was probably for the best. At least he could remain objective now.

"I'm going to ask you again what your history with the deceased is. What did he have on you?"

She glared at him and was about to tell him just were he could stick his questions when a door from inside the apartment opened.

"Rachel what's going on," a gruff, rawboned voice asked. It was a man's voice.

Embarrassed, Nate was getting ready to explain to the guy she apparently was living with that he was just a cop coming to ask her a few questions when an old man shuffled in from around the corner. Rachel's face softened immediately when she saw him and she went to his side to assist him to a nearby chair.

"Grandpa you shouldn't be walking around without your walker, the doctor said…" she tried to say but the old man cut her off.

"Ah damn doctor doesn't know anything. Kid gets a few fancy degrees and thinks he knows everything, and you, babying me like you do. You would think I already have one foot in the grave."

He down with a grimace and Nathan in the meantime was trying to scrap his jaw off the ground. The man he had mistaken for a boyfriend when he heard him was eighty if he was a day. The many wrinkles covering his face had carved character woven groves while his big hands clutched Rachel's forearm as she helped him into a chair.

A miraculous change had come over Rachel as her whole face softened, her touch gentled, and she smiled at the ramblings of the old man. The next thing Nate noticed was what threw him the most. The old man was staring right at him now but he knew that he couldn't see him. The eyes that were once a rich hazel like his granddaughter's were now filmy and sightless. He was blind.

Despite his apparent age, the old man's voice had a youthful, exuberate quality that had led to his initial mistake. Nathan was finding this trip to be even more enlightening than he had fist thought. Too bad none of it had to do with the case.

"Now tell me girl, who was it I heard talking to you?"

Rachel immediately shot Nathan a panicked, warning glance that he knew meant don't upset him.

"My name is Nathan Bourdeaux sir. I'm a friend of you granddaughter."

If that wasn't stretching the truth a little he didn't know what was.

"That's a Creole accent you have there boy. I didn't know Rachel knew anyone in Louisiana." His tone was suspicious and Nate kept his respectful.

"Well sir, it is a new acquaintance we share being as new to New York as I am."

The old man smiled then and Nathan just felt he had passed some kind of test. Apparently he had because Rachel even gave him a small smile of her own.

"Grandpa I have to get ready for work. Lil wants us in by noon today for inventory. Leslie is going to be here early but if you need anything before that just call me."

She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek and Nate was suddenly envious of the old man.

"I'll be fine girl. Your friend Nathan and I will find something to talk about while you are getting ready so don't have any worries about that." Rachel panicked.

"I'm afraid Nate is very busy today and could only stop by for a moment. Isn't that right Boy Scout," she said pointedly. He grinned and decided that turnabout was fair play.

"Oh, I'm sure that Mr…" he said, letting it hang.

"O'Day," the old man supplied. "Shamus O'Day. You can call me Shamus"

"Shamus and I will find something to discuss, after all I don't really have anything else pressing to do. I told you that Rachel. Must be that poor short term memory of yours."

Shamus chuckled a bit and Rachel paled. She knew when she had been beaten but still never one to be defeated gracefully she walked up to the detective and pulled his ear close to her mouth.

"Tell him anything about why you are here or try to grill him about Tony in any way and I will cut off your balls and feed them to you," she said sweetly.

Not to be undone Nathan turned his head so that his lips were just inches away from hers. Instead of giving in to the urge to kiss her like he had done before he leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"Keep talking to me like that sugar and next time I might not be able to stop myself from plundering that sassy mouth of yours."

He gave into one of his urges and gave her ear a little nip. Rachel couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped her mouth before she turned and fled to the bathroom. Nathan had the immense satisfaction of hearing the door slam shut. He smiled even wider when the old man asked.

"I wonder what got her knickers in a bunch."

"I don't know, maybe it was something that bit her," he replied and laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel sighed and let the warm spray of the shower sluice over her lithe body. It felt good and eased some of the tension in her stiff shoulders. A frustrated curse fell from her lips as she lathered her hair.

She really should have known that he would wait for her and as much as she really wanted to tell him what was going on she couldn't, at least not yet. Hell, she surprised herself with even wanting to tell him. Maybe she was finally going soft in her old age.

With another sigh she rinsed her rich dark locks and started working in conditioner, all the while her agile mind formulated a getaway plan. Rachel knew that she was only going to have one shot at this because once Tony's family found out he was dead…well she knew what would happen.

Eager to set her plan in motion she finished her shower and stepped out of the warm spray, making sure to leave it on. She knew that Leslie would be over soon to take care of her grandpa so she didn't have to worry about waiting for her. Quietly she stepped out of the bathroom into her darkened bedroom keeping a towel around her head and body as she rummaged through the drawer.

She pulled out her small duffel bag and started stuffing her clothes into it only stopping when the towel that had been around her head started to fall. She cursed it in frustration and threw it across the room and pushed back her wet hair when it fell into her eyes.

Finally satisfied that she had enough clothes to last her for a few days, Rachel dressed quickly in the sweats and tank top she had discarded earlier, adding a pair of beat up running shoes to the ensemble and made her way to her bedroom window.

She was silent as a shadow as she slipped out the window and down the fire escape. Once her feet hit the black asphalt of the alley by her apartment she wasted no time in opening the locked garage under it. The noise was deafening and she knew that Nathan and her grandfather would have heard it, but it was too late to worry about it now.

Her red, sixty-nine mustang convertible gleamed as the sunlight hit it. With a sure hand she tossed her bag in the back, vaulted over the door Dukes of Hazard style, turned the key in the ignition, and shot out of the garage.

"Rachel!" a familiar southern voice bellowed. She was about to turn out of the alley.

The lithe brunette glance over her shoulder to see Nathan standing at the top of the fire escape she had just used to procure her freedom. With a grin she flipped him a bird and drove away laughing. He started cursing her in French.

They could probably hear him all the way back in Louisiana.

Nathan had been wondering what was keeping Rachel in the shower. She was taking an awful long time for someone in a hurry. With an ear only half on the story that Shamus was telling him he listened and heard water still running. He relaxed a little and settled back, his full attention returned to the story Rachel's grandfather had been relating.

Much to his surprise Shamus had reveled that he had been a cop for almost thirty years, back when, according to him, it meant something to carry a badge. The story he was telling him was about an inventive thief that liked to leave an ace of spades at the scene of his crimes. He was so caught up in the story that he at first didn't hear the clang but then the sound of a car starting brought his attention around.

"What was that?" he asked, curious. Shamus stopped mid-story and cocked an ear toward the sound. He frowned.

"That's strange; it sounds like Rachel's car."

The words were barely out of the old man's mouth before Nate was up and running. Mindless of the fact that he was barging into Rachel's bedroom, he threw open the door and ran to the open window and squeezed through it onto the fire escape just as Rachel's car was turning the corner.

"Rachel," he yelled in anger and disbelief.

The last thing he saw was her middle finger and her head thrown back in a laugh as she drove away. Dredging up the French swear words his uncle had taught him Nathan went back inside intent on calling Jessie to tell her what happened but before he could his cell phone rang.

"Boudreaux," he barked into the receiver. Jessie's Bronx lit answered him back.

"Nate we got a problem. I just got an ID on our corpse and you aren't going to believe who it is."

"Who," he asked, a feeling of dread washing over him.

"Antony McNamara Jr.," she replied. White-hot anger pulsed through Nathan at the name. He knew it of course, every cop who had ever worked Narcotics did.

"Dammit!"

"You need to bring Rachel in. Even if she didn't have anything to do with it Tony McNamara is going to be looking for her."

She sounded worried and with good damn reason. Tony McNamara was a very dangerous man. Nathan grimaced.

"I would love to Jess but I'm afraid that is impossible. She skipped out on me when my back was turned."

"You lost her!" His partner screamed. He winced and pulled his phone away from his ear.

"Yeah," he bit back, disgusted. He could practically feel his partner's annoyance coming through the airwaves.

"Well, I suggest you find her before she gets herself into more trouble than she can handle. It is going to have to wait though. I need you to meet me at Tony's home. We have to officially inform him that his son is dead."

He could tell by her grim tone that she was not looking forward to the experience.

"I'll be there," he replied and hung up without saying goodbye. Rubbing a weary hand over his face he turned to go only to walk into a smiling, bubbly redhead.

"Oh hey, I thought I heard voices in here," she said. "Where's Rachel?"

Nathan took in the girl before him surprised that she had got into the apartment without him knowing.

"She's not here. Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Leslie. I take care of Rachel's grandfather when she is at work." She smiled. "The hours are a bitch but the guy is an absolute sweetheart and the pay is putting me through acting school. Who are you?"

"A friend," he replied cryptically. The actress narrowed her eyes her normal cheerful façade cracking.

"Well friend when you see Rachel tell her that I can't come next Thursday so she is going to have to call someone else in. I have an audition." With that the girl left.

"I will be sure to tell her," he mumbled, distracted. _After I find her and ring her scrawny neck, _he thought.

He said goodbye to Shamus and left Rachel's apartment all the while wondering just what in the hell she was doing mixed up with Tony McNamara. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer to that question.

* * *

Violet Stanford forced one bleary eye open and glanced at the clock by her bedside table. It blinked back at her that it was one in the morning. Not sure what had awakened her she groaned and rolled over. That is when she heard it again, the knock at her door. Glaring at the clock she threw the covers back and in the process hit the hard warm lump that was lying next to her.

"Vi?" a sleepy voice asked. Even half-asleep his Australian accent was notable.

"Go back to sleep Kevin," she said and grinned as he mumbled something that sounded like ok but came out mm mmmk. With a sigh Violet got up, put a robe on over her nightgown, and padded out of the bedroom across her living room and to the door.

Thanks to her new career she was living in a one-floor studio apartment in one of the better areas of New York. It was a far cry from the one bedroom five-story walk-up she had lived in when she first came. The pounding at the door increased and this time a voice she recognized could be heard from the other side.

"Hey Jersey, open up will you," the feminine voice called.

"Rachel?" Puzzled she opened the door.

Violet and Rachel had not been the best of friends when they worked together at Coyote Ugly, but that had slowly changed as she had gotten to know the brunette. She had realized, after the fact, that Rachel was hard on her because she had been teaching her what it took to do the job. Still it was weird for her to be stopping by her place and one in the morning.

"Hi Jersey," she greeted. Vi froze and could only stare at the lithe brunette in complete and utter shock. Rachel was standing in front of her cradling a sleeping child in her arms. An annoyed look passed over Rachel's face and Vi shook herself out of her stupor.

"Look can we come in? He's not as light as he looks."

"Oh yeah…sorry, come in."

She stood aside and closed the door behind her friend when she entered. She opened her mouth to ask her what was going on when the warm bundle in Rachel's arms stirred.

"Mommy?" the little boy said and Rachel's face softened and melted at the sleepy voice.

"It's ok Zeke, go back to sleep," she soothed. Zeke had other ideas as he turned his head toward Violet.

"Hey pretty lady," he mumbled around the two fingers he had just stuck in his mouth. Vi smiled at the sight. Now that she could see his face Vi knew that even without the mumbled "mommy" of earlier she would have known this was Rachel's son. The dark hair and hazel eyes were a dead give way. He even had the aristocratic features that made Rachel such a knockout but his were more masculine and softened by the hand of youth. Violet smiled at the boy and then met her friend's eyes.

"Rach, what's going on?"

She sighed and started unconsciously rocking her son with her body.

"I need your help Jersey. Look it's a long story and I don't want…" she trailed off, but the pointed look at the bundle that was now squirming against her told Vi all she need to know.

"Mommy….want down!"

Rachel reluctantly let him go but not before adding sternly.

"Want down what Ezekiel?"

Zeke grinned. "Down please," he said. The please came out sounding Pless. Rachel smiled and put him down on the floor. Just then Kevin O' Donnel, Violet's fiancé, came out of the bedroom wearing only a pair of gray flannel pajama bottoms. His bare feet sounded muffled on the wood floors as he walked into the living room.

"Vi what's going on it's one in the…" he started to say but trailed off when he saw Rachel with a dark haired little boy hiding behind her legs.

He blinked in surprise. "Hello Rach." He bent down to eye level with the toddler.

"And who do we have here." Ezekiel finding himself the center of attention smiled shyly at Kevin.

"Kevin, Vi, I would like you to meet my son Ezekiel."

She smiled and there was no mistaking the note of pride in her voice. She then turned serious eyes on Violet. "We really need to talk."

Kevin seemed to get the hint and said to the boy who had now decided to come out of hiding.

"Hey Zeke do you like comic books?" he asked. The boy just gave him a puzzled look.

"You know stories with Spiderman, superman," he added and Zeke's eyes lit up. Spiderman was his favorite super hero.

"Mommy! Mommy! Can I go see Spiderman, please."

Rachel smiled and nodded to Zeke who let out a whoop as he ran over to Kevin, grabbed his hand, and proceeded to pull him back towards the room. Kevin laughed as he let the enthusiastic little boy tug at his arm. Rachel watched her son and the bigger man for a moment, a bittersweet smile on her face before turning back to Violet.

"You're lucky Jersey," she said not unkindly.

"I know," Violet replied and looped her arm through Rachel's, drawing her into the kitchen.

"All right, out with it. You show up at my door at one in the morning with a son I didn't even know you had looking like the devil is snapping at your heels. What's the matter Rachel? Are you in trouble?"

Rachel sighed and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. Vi sunk down into the one facing her.

"Lil is the only one that knew about my son and she found out by accident. Listen, I'm going to tell you a story and afterwards if you decide you don't want to help me then I'll understand. It's a lot to ask."

"Whatever it is I'll help you Rach, we're coyotes we help…" Rachel cut her off before she could continue.

"Before you commit yourself to this you have to let me tell you what you're getting into. Coyote or not this could be dangerous. I want you to understand me up front. Deal?"

Rachel's dark eyes were serious and her blue eyed, blond haired friend nodded. Rachel searched her eyes and final satisfied with what she saw there gave Violet a small smile, sighed, and ran a hand through her long hair.

"I kidnapped my son this afternoon," Rachel said. "And I would rather die then give him back."

* * *

**Earlier that day:**

Rachel walked into the mansion belonging to Antony McNamara Sr. not believing what she was about to do. Still, she remained calm as the bodyguard assigned to the high-level crime lord's only grandson led her to his room.

"Mr. McNamara says you got one hour. Make it count."

She graced him with a small smile and went into the boy's room. Immediately the dark haired little boy playing with blocks looked up.

"Mommy!" He squealed in delight and ran to her waiting arms.

"Zeke!" Rachel cried, laughing she picked him up and spun him around.

Rosa, the nanny that took care of the little boy, watched the scene with an expression of joy mixed with sadness. She had the same reaction every time mother and son saw each other because she had to see the younger woman's heart break every time she had to leave the four and a half year old boy behind.

Still, it wasn't her place to tell Mr. McNamara his business, and despite how very much she wished she could help she had her own family to think about. Rosa had been supervising the short biweekly visits of mother and son for four years now which was why, as the hour progressed, she couldn't help but notice that things seemed different today.

Usually when Rachel came she barely let a moment go by were she wasn't touching her young son. Whether it be a hand ruffling his soft hair or a full blown wrestling match that had the boy squealing in delight she always found an excuse to make contact.

Sometimes though, on those quite days, Zeke would sit in his mother's lap while she told him a story. These were the most heartbreaking visits for Rosa because she could see the tears in Rachel's eyes that she refused to let fall. She frowned slightly. She was puzzled to see that Rachel didn't seem to be finding excuses to touch her son this time.

Shrugging it off as her overactive imagination Rosa tried to re-focus on the magazine she had been pretending to read. She almost hated herself for the inadvertent part she played in this young woman's pain but she knew that is she ever tried to help her own family would be the ones to suffer. So she did her duty and supervised the visit and when the hour was up she went to tell Rachel that it was time to leave. The two had been playing with trucks and building a fortress of some kind.

"Señorita Barnes, it is time." She watched Rachel's face fall. With a sigh she turned to her son.

"Zeke, Mommy has to go now," she said softy. The boy jumped up and instantly cried.

"Can I go too Mommy? I want to go with you. How come I can never go with you?" Rachel held back the tears as she picked her son up and hugged him to her.

"Zeke, do you remember that game we used to play with daddy? When daddy use to yell at mommy and I told you that if you covered your ears and closed your eyes things would be better when you opened them?"

Zeke nodded his wide hazel eyes a bit fearful.

"Let's play that game now, okay? Just for a minute," she said; earnest.

"But Mommy I don't want you and daddy to start yelling at each other," he said and Rachel hugged him tighter.

"It's ok we won't. I promise we won't ever again, but I still need you to play the game right now ok," she said.

Large, fearful eyes, so like her own, met hers and he nodded. "Okay," he whispered.

Assured that her son wouldn't overhear she leaned towards Rosa and whispered in her ear. The older woman's eyes widened as Rachel told her about Tony Jr. Rosa knew what it would mean for Rachel and she also had a feeling she knew what the younger woman was going to do.

"He coming with me," she said. Rosa sucked in a breath.

"You can't Señorita; he will kill you."

"He is going to try to do that anyway. Rosa, he is my son. I can't leave him here to be raised by that man. I won't leave him here. Forgive me Rosa."

The older woman looked at Rachel not understanding why she would need to forgive her for something that she knew only too well.

Keeping her son shielded against her Rachel used her free arm and hit the smaller woman on the back of the head with one of Zeke's heavier trucks. The plump woman barely even had time to register shock before she crumpled to the ground.

She gave the unconscious woman an apologetic glance and then without breaking stride she bolted for the back entrance to the nursery. She only had a moment before the guards saw her and yelled for her to stop.

She just ran faster knowing that they wouldn't dare try to shoot her with Zeke in her arms. With speed born of desperation Rachel darted behind the hedge that hide the back fence from view. The hole she had cut before going to the front of the house served its purpose as she slipped through it still clutching her son.

Her convertible was waiting on the opposite side. Without looking back she quickly buckled Ezekiel in the back seat and had just jumped into the driver's side when a shot was heard from behind her.

Five of McNamara's men were coming after her with guns drawn and she didn't wait around to find out what they wanted. She started the sports car and floored it, shooting around the corner and away from McNamara's house. She glanced over her shoulder to see his men cursing at her and she smiled. Rachel knew that she was safe, for now.

* * *

Nate and Jessie pulled up to the front gate of Tony McNamara's mansion only to find all hell breaking loose. That is why he was less than surprised when the guard's instantly buzzed them through. Once inside both detectives' were led to Mr. McNamara's private office.

Nathan had to say he was impressed by its understated elegance. The whole room just screamed money from the antique hard wood desk to the original Picasso on the wall. Who said that crime didn't pay?

While Nate was looking around like a Japanese tourist, Jessie was standing in the middle of the lavish room unimpressed. She had seen it all before, many times before, since she had questioned McNamara at one time or another about various homicides. People tended to end up dead when the gentleman crime lord was involved.

Finally, the man of the hour arrived and surprise briefly flickering across his aristocratic features when he saw Jessie. The mask of studied politeness, however, descended and the enigma that was Antony McNamara gazed back at with piercing black eyes. She gave him a cool nod of acknowledgement.

Nate on the other hand was watching the gentleman with an air of open curiosity. He had, of course, heard of the crime lord, even seen pictures of him, but it was nothing compared to actually standing in the man's commanding presence. His suit was tailored and immaculate, his hair had every strand in place, and his shoes gleamed so bright that Nate could see his own reflection. All in all McNamara looked more like a movie star than a criminal.

"Well, well Detective Leland, a pleasure as always. To what do I owe this delightful visit? And pardon my manners; who is your friend?" He asked and sank with boneless grace behind his desk.

Jessie glared at the man. "Detective Nathan Boudreaux this is Antony McNamara. The most well mannered piece of slime in the city."

McNamara frowned and replied.

"I see you are your usually charming self detective…pity."

Nathan sensing that things were only going to get worse if Jess started with the crime lord decided to be diplomatic and jump in.

"Mr. McNamara you will have to excuse my partner. It has been an interesting week. I'm sorry sir but I have some bad news. I regret to inform you that your son was found dead this morning and we unfortunately have to ask you a few questions."

McNamara's eyes flickered briefly to the detective's before turning to stone.

"That is rather unfortunate news. It does, however, explain a lot," he replied looking thoughtful.

Nathan was curious as to what question exactly the death of his only son could answer and was about to ask him when the crime lord suddenly caught him with his hard gaze.

"Detectives since you are here, although this is not your normal area of expertise, I would like to inform you of a serious crime that has been committed against my household. This information will also more than likely lead you to my son's killer."

He leaned over to remove a slim cigar from the case on his desk. Nathan narrowed his eyes suspiciously and Jessie looked surprised.

"I never said your son had been murder, I just said he was found dead."

McNamara didn't bat an eye.

"Oh come, come Detective. I happen to know that homicide does not make a habit of informing the family of a death. They are just the ones that come to interrogate you after the body had been buried." The note of sarcasm was not missed by either detective.

"If you have any information about your son's death then you need to tell us what it is," Jessie said through clenched teeth.

Nate made a point of stepping in closer to his partner. He wasn't all that convinced that Jessie wouldn't just decide to shoot McNamara on the spot and he wanted to be in a position to stop her from doing anything stupid.

"I only know that Rachel Barnes, an old friend of yours I believed Detective Leland, came to my house earlier and abducted my grandson, a felony she will pay for with the maximum sentence the law will allow. Knowing Rachel as I do she would only commit such a desperate act if she had some reason to run. I can only assume then that she has something to do with my son's tragic passing."

McNamara regarded them coolly while elegantly cutting off the tip of his cigar. Nathan managed to control his shock at this revelation not wanting this man to know that he knew Rachel.

"That's ridiculous," Jessie snorted and then added. "Why on earth would Rachel kidnap your grandson because your son turned up dead?"

"Because," the crime lord replied. "She is his mother."

* * *

Violet stared at her friend in fascinated silence as she told her the story about her and Tony McNamara. She couldn't stop the few tears that escaped her eyes but she quickly brushed them aside. It wouldn't do to have Rachel see her crying. Rachel though wasn't really paying attention as she finished, she was just sort of staring out into space.

"So let me get this straight. Tony's dad paid off the judge and got custody of your son by claiming you were unfit?"

Rachel didn't say anything for a moment she just smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, that about sums it up. I lost Zeke before he was a year old and then a few months later Tony came to me, he said that he would give me visiting rights if I agreed to supply him with money when he needed it. Apparently daddy dearest had decided to cut him off. I started working for Lil after losing the hearing and I was doing well at the bar. With Tony dead though, Mr. McNamara won't think twice about taking my son away from me. I couldn't let that happen Vi; I just couldn't," Rachel said, dejectedly.

Vi graced her with a rueful smile. "So you decided to take on one of the most dangerous men living in the city of New York instead. I tell you Rach you sure know how to pick your enemies."

Rachel grinned at that and then her expression turned sober.

"Listen Jersey, I need you to watch Ezekiel for me for a few days. At least until I can get Tony Sr. off my back. I know it is a lot to ask Vi, but…" she started to say but her friend cut her off.

"Don't worry about it, I would be honored. One question though. Why me?'

"You mean why not Zoe or Cammie?" Vi nodded.

"Because Tony knows they are my friends, but he doesn't know about you. I figure you and Kevin can take a vacation to your old man's place in Jersey and even Tony won't be able to find you."

"All right we'll watch him, but what about you? You know if he finds you…" she started but was unwilling to finish that thought. Rachel stared into her friend's worried eyes and smiled.

"Don't worry about me Jersey. I'm the original New York bitch. I can handle it."

Violet didn't look very convinced but she didn't argue. One thing she had learned about Rachel was that she was as tough as they came. If anyone could find a way out of this situation she could.

She only hoped that she found a way out in time.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel drove around New York City admiring the nightlife around her. After leaving her son with Violet and Kevin she had called Cammie to ask her to watch her grandfather for a few days. She had also asked her to tell Lil that she would be gone for awhile.

Rachel could almost feel the question's burning through Cammie's brain but her friend had let it go and promised to get the message to Lil. That taken care of Rachel had decided that is she wanted to get out of this with some semblance of a life she was going to need some legal advice. That meant dropping in on an old friend.

The problem she had encountered when she got to her friend's place was that it was being watched. With a low curse Rachel parked Kevin's car a few streets away. They had switched vehicles because of the very recognizable nature of Rachel's mustang. She had also changed from her sweats into a pair of boot cut jeans and a black suede half shirt that tied in the back. A pair of black steel-toed doc martins completed the outfit.

The docs served the duel purpose of being both comfortable and easy to run in should the need arise. The steel toes were also ideal for breaking kneecaps, which is why Lil told Rachel she couldn't wear them to work anymore. Rachel stealthily made her way to the back of a brownstone apartment building letting herself in the back entrance with a set of lock picking tools.

Once inside she bypassed the elevator and took the stairs three flights up to apartment three twelve. She was relieved to see the hallway empty of anyone. Quickly, before anyone could happen to walk by and see her, Rachel went up to Zoe's door and let herself in with her lock picks.

The first thing she saw was a head of dark brown hair leaning over a very thick book. A smooth hand, the same color as the woman's hair, was busy taking notes. The gorgeous African American woman was so involved in what she was doing that she didn't noticed Rachel's presence until she was standing right in front of her desk.

"It is a sad, sad day when I see a coyote doing homework on a Friday night," Rachel teased. Zoe's head shot up and she immediately let out a yelp of delighted surprise.

"Rachel!" She squealed, gave her a hug, and pulled back.

"Damn girl, let me get a look at you."

The smile she wore a moment before turned to a concerned look as Zoe's rapid-fire brain jumped from one emotion to the next.

"Girl, I don't know what you did but you are hotter than Taye Diggs and twice as dangerous to be seen with. What did you do, assassinate the president?"

"Worse, they think I killed Tony McNamara," she said. Zoe's look turned from concerned to grave as she studied her friend.

"That is some serious shit, you know that don't you?"

Rachel shot her a _no shit_ look and her friend relented.

"Yeah of course you do. So what do you need me to do? Anything you want you got."

Rachel gave her a grateful smile before sinking into the soft leather chair that was next to her friend's desk.

"I need some legal advice," she said and told Zoe about everything that had happened since last week including the story about her son. Zoe's full mouth had turned from a concerned frown to a thoughtful scowl at the end of the story.

"You don't need a lawyer you need a miracle straight from the hand of God," she finally said. Rachel sneered at her.

"Well in case my application for divine intervention is rejected I thought I would try the more humanistic approach."

Zoe, who was more then use to Rachel's attitude, just gave her an _Oh please you are not taking that tone with me look_. Only mothers and black women knew how to pull that look off effectively and Zoe was no exception.

"Look, I have a friend, a lawyer that specializes in custody cases. The biggest problem though is going to be proving that McNamara bought off the judge that took your baby away. I don't suppose you remember the judge's name?" She asked and started pacing.

"I don't think I'll ever forget it. His name is Harding, Gerald Harding."

Zoe's head snapped around.

"Hang'em high Harding? There were always rumors, but the self-righteous bastard seemed to have lived a charmed life. Nobody could touch him," her friend murmured.

Rachel had been only half paying attention but for some reason her friend's use of the past tense seemed to get through the fog that had fallen on her mind.

"Was?" She asked.

"Yeah the honorable asshole dropped dead about a month ago. Heart attack was the official report," Zoe replied. She had her doubts about that though.

"Isn't that is the official term for going out with your cock buried between the legs of a twenty-year old," Rachel spat and Zoe grinned.

Surprisingly, her friend's joke wasn't that far off. The rumor had been that the judge had been engaging in conduct unbecoming with a hooker that was appearing before him on a solicitation charge. Just leave it to Rachel to state the obvious in such a colorful manner.

"That was the rumor." She paused. "You know there was another rumor going around about the judge. Seems that he kept a very embarrassing little black book; one that could hang a lot of people in this town. Problem is that nobody seems to be able to find it, and believe me someone has been looking. Harding's house and office were both trashed before his body had even grown cold. Might be something in there that you could use."

Rachel felt her heart speed up but she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"Do you think we could find it?"

"Maybe, I can always look. I just found out that Harding kept an office at NYU, seems he lectured on the weekends. It was searched too but I can see if maybe they missed something there."

Zoe paused when she noticed her friend was almost falling asleep were she sat.

"Why don't you get a couple of hours sleep on the sofa. We can hit the office afterwards," She offered.

Rachel immediately pinched herself awake.

"I can't, too dangerous for you."

Her friend just gave her a level stare.

"Please," she scoffed. "It's three in the morning Rach, and I bet that you haven't slept at all today."

"I appreciate the offer Zo, but I can't. I have to keep moving before…" she said and knock at the door cut her off.

"Zoe Reynolds this is Detective Nathan Boudreaux of the New York City police department. I need to ask you some questions about Rachel Barnes."

"Ah hell," Rachel said and leaned her head against the back of the chair. This was all she needed. The perfect shitty end to the perfect shitty day.

"Don't worry Rach, I'll get rid of him. Go hang out in the bedroom for a minute."

Rachel didn't have the strength to argue so she did what Zoe told her to do. Right as she cleared the door and closed it she heard the former coyote greeting Nate.

"Hello detective? What can I do for you," she heard her ask, her tone innocent. Rachel snorted. Zoe could sell a line of bullshit to a Nun; she was going to make a great lawyer.

"I'm looking for Rachel Barnes. Have you seen her?"

Rachel noticed that his normal southern drawl was strained, like it was costing him a lot to be polite.

"Rachel? I haven't seen Rach in almost three weeks?" Zoe replied, sounding surprised. Her tone turned suspicious. "Just what do you want with Rachel anyway detective?"

"I just need to ask her a few questions. If you see her could you tell her to give me a call?"

Rachel couldn't see what was going on but she was sure that he probably just gave Zoe one of his cards.

"I will detective, goodnight"

She heard her friend shut the door. The minute she was sure that Nathan had left Rachel left the sanctuary of Zoe's room.

"Thanks for getting rid of him. I have to go 'cause you can bet that if he was here then McNamara's goons won't be far behind."

Zoe was about to protest that Racheal needed to stay but her words gave her pause. It wasn't that she didn't think that she couldn't handle the crime lord's lackeys; she just didn't want to take a chance on them forcing their way in and finding Rachel. Her friend would be as good as dead if that happened. Zoe frowned and gave her a hug.

"You be careful out there, hon, and call me on my cell if you need anything."

Rachel smiled.

"You too and if you learn anything leave a message with Jersey's dad. Vi will have filled him. I'm going to be checking in with them when I can so I should get any messages you give them."

Rachel hugged Zoe again, released her, and silently slipped out the front door.

"Be careful girl. I don't want to be the one to identify you at the morgue," she whispered. Zoe closed the door and said a silent prayer to whoever was listening for her friend to be all right.

After making sure that Nathan was truly gone Rachel made her way out of Zoe's place as quietly as she had come. She also made sure to dodge the people who were watching the house. With a sure-footed grace that would make even the most agile person jealous she ran the few blocks to Kevin's black convertible and got in.

Just as she was about to start the car, however, and hand shot out from the back seat and covered her mouth, while another arm snaked around her torso. Fear and rage coursed though her and she was about to leave a set of teeth marks in her attacker's hand that would leave him getting tetanus shots for the next six months when a familiar voice tickled her ear.

"Bite me and I will haul your ass in for assaulting a police officer," Nathan whispered, his warm breath caressing her skin. He loosened his grip and allowed her to spin around and face him.

"You're lucky that is all I was going to do to you," she hissed. He shot her a cocky grin and climbed into the seat next to her.

"So where are we going?"

Rachel gave him her best intimidating glare. He didn't so much as flinch.

"That depends, are you going to arrest me?"

"No," he replied, and leaned back more comfortably in the seat.

She scowled. "Then I'm going to a hotel and you are getting the hell out of my car."

He grinned, a very irritating and infuriating grin.

"Sorry, but that is not the way I figure it. See the way I figure, you are obviously in way over your pretty little head considering the most powerful crime lord in the U. S. of A wants you dead. Not only that but the entire police force with the exception of Jess and I are out to arrest you for the murder of said crime boss' son. So, since I have decided to risk the only life I have ever known to save your neck, and a lovely neck it is too by the way, then the least you can do is tell me were we are going. We will get into what's going on later although I think I have figured out what it was Tony Jr. had on you."

Nathan watched in a sort of perverse delight as his little speech caused her face to turned three shades of red. She was dying to rip his leg off and beat him to death with it.

The only problem with that is that it would get blood all over the car and draw the attention of the two gentlemen sent to watch Zoe's house for anyone and everyone that was her.

"You egotistical, inbred, asshole. I want you out of this car now!"

She hadn't been quiet and Nathan darted a worried glance at the car that held McNamara's men.

_Shit, Shit, Shit_, he thought.

They were coming to investigate. He could think of only one way to get them to stop coming and he knew he was going to pay the piper for it later. Without warning Nathan grabbed Rachel around the waist and pulled her into his lap. Her yelp of surprise turned to a moan when his mouth covered hers. All too quickly the detective realized he was in trouble, ass deep in quicksand and sinking fast.

The kiss, which he had initiated for show, turned into something much more explosive. She was liquid fire in his arms as their tongues fought each other for dominance. She ended up straddling him, which gave her the advantage of leverage. She made good use of it too drawing a moan from him as she ran he tongue along his, sucking lightly and devored his mouth.

After a few minutes Nate managed to gain some semblance of control and pull away from her. Both of them were breathing heavy and Rachel's hazel eyes were gold with desire.

"What was that for?" she asked tentatively.

"Distraction," he breathed. "McNamara's goons saw us and were coming to investigate. I figured that they wouldn't bother with a lover's spat that turned into a make out session. I was right."

Rachel's look of lust induced desire quickly turned to anger. She viciously pulled herself free of him and scooted back over to the driver's side.

"Redneck asshole," she said right before starting the car and peeling out of the driveway. Nate was unfazed. He grinned.

"That's Mr. Asshole to you, cher."

She glared at him and he laughed. He had a feeling that his long night was about to get even longer.

* * *

Much to Rachel's extreme and profound annoyance Nate wouldn't leave, no matter how much she cursed. After driving around for awhile they had found a seedy motel off the beaten path and checked in.

It was the kind of place where the cockroaches were so big you would think they were on steroids. Rachel just hoped they didn't decide to revolt, she wasn't sure if she and Nate would be able to take them.

Of course that would involve them working together and Rachel would rather have her spleen cut out with a dirty knife than do such a thing. She had been cursing him since they cleared the door and after listening to her threaten him for almost a half an hour the infuriating man had got up without saying a word and went to risk a staff infection in the dirty excuse for a shower.

But not before he'd handcuffed Rachel to the bed.

The slippery bastard had been so quick that she didn't stand a chance; he'd even dodged her well-placed kick to his nether region, which only pissed her off more. Fuming, she had pulled at the cuffs and tried to break free, screaming a few choice words about his parentage as he walked away whistling.

That had been the last draw for this day, the uppity bastard had actually whistled while leaving her chained to the bed. She had no choice but to kill him now. He was the most impossible, egotistical, annoying, sexy, an inner voice inserted.

She stopped short. So he had a velvet voice that could melt butter and a smile that could thaw ice, he was still a six foot two problem that she didn't need, not now when her life had been effectively flushed down the toilet.

Her thoughts sobered her and she quieted down. The emotional turmoil of the last few caught up with her and Rachel did something that she hadn't done since she was twenty years old. The floodgates opened and tears started to fall from her eyes. These weren't normal tears; Rachel didn't whine or mumble. These were the silent kind that only came when a person's soul had been wounded so deep that the pain was a permanent ingrained part of them.

That was the kind of pain she had been hiding from the world behind her tough as leather exterior and that was the kind of pain Nate silently witnessed as he watched her from the darkened doorway of the bathroom.

She hadn't noticed yet that the shower had stopped running, so focused on keeping her face averted from the pale light of the lamp. She cried in the dark like a wounded and beaten animal and Nathan felt his heart break. Finally unable to stand aside he walked quickly into the room and unlocked her hands. She didn't seem to notice.

"Rachel," he replied softly and tried to take her in his arms. She wrenched away from him hiding her tear stained face in her long hair.

"Rachel, please look at me."

Gently he brushed aside her hair and forced her to meet his eyes. There was deep-seated anger in her gaze as she glared at him for daring to see her anguish. Without thinking he pulled her into his arms, this time managing to hold her tightly despite her struggles.

"It's going to be all right, cher," he whispered.

For some reason her struggling only increased. With a frustrated sigh he pulled back only to have his head snap back in pain. He hadn't seen her fist coming until it was too late. With a curse he let go of her and rubbed his sore jaw.

"I hate you," she yelled, once she was free. "I hate you," she said again this time she came at him and beat his chest. In defense his arms went around her again but a dam seemed to have broken in her. She just kept repeating, "I hate you, I hate you," over and over again until she finally collapsed against him and allowed him to hold her.

"I hate you," she mumbled one last time, closed her eyes, and then relaxed into his warmth.

"I know," he whispered. He was rubbing soothing hands up and down her back. He sighed deeply and led Rachel to the bed, gathered her up in his arms, and continued the soothing caresses up and down her back.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled, quietly and tried to slide out of his arms. He just tightened his grip and settled deeper into the lumpy mattress of the only queen bed in the room.

"You need to sleep so we are sleeping," he said gruffly. To Nate's surprise she didn't fight him, which told him exactly how exhausted she must have been.

"Just for a couple of hours, have to find…" she mumbled sleepily before settling her head more comfortably on his shoulder. Within moments a soft snore escaped her lips. The combination of Nate's gently hands and the day's events had defeated her.

Nate, however, saw no life renewing sleep in his future. His mind was working over time and the soft feeling of Rachel's lithe body next to his was not really helping him relax.

What was really disturbing him though is the fact that he didn't know when she had become so important to him that he was willing to risk everything for her? He looked down at her sleeping form and noticed that even in sleep her features were not fully relaxed.

He wanted to take away the pain that would follow her even in rest. Watching her from the bathroom door had been torture, and if he could have he would have said a few magic words, washing her anguish away forever. Too bad the real world didn't work like that.

On impulse he brushed a soothing kiss across her furrowed brow, which caused her to sigh and snuggle closer to him. He wasn't sure if the moan he let out was one of pleasure or pain. She truly was a fey spirit come to torture him and whisk him away to Tir na nog.

She was also a beautiful, tough, brash, lonely, scared woman who deserved better from life than what she had been handed. He only hoped that his tarnished armor would be enough to slay her demons before they consumed them both.

* * *

Alonso Delmeccio was not a happy man. The second-generation NYPD officer was currently trying to find one of their detectives that had gone AWOL in the past twenty-four hours.

Nathan Boudreaux, formerly of the New Orleans Police, had failed to check back in with his partner and that was almost eight hours ago. He had been looking into the Barnes case and his car was found outside of Zoe Reynolds apartment. Al had just talked with the very attractive Ms. Reynolds and found out that Nate had been at her place asking about their suspect Rachel Barnes.

Zoe had told him that she hadn't seen Rach in three weeks or some, but Al hadn't believed a word of it. It didn't matter though because if he knew Rachel she was too smart to put her friends in danger by letting them know where she was going.

Al had busted Rachel on battery charges a few months ago. She had decked some prissy ass businessman that was getting a little too primitive with his treatment of the coyote girls. He'd been making some lewd comments and had coped a few feels but when he'd tried to pull Cammie into the bathroom to get more personal he'd bought himself a broken nose, courtesy of Rachel.

Bastard had pressed charges but Jessie Leland went to bat for Rachel with the judge and got the sentence reduced to probation. Al hadn't really cared one way or another because he got paid regardless for keeping track of Rachel's movements. Mr. McNamara paid well too, much better than the department.

The rotund man fished a jelly donut out of a bag that was next to him in the passenger seat and then placed a call on his cell phone.

"Have you found her," the voice on the other end asked without saying hello.

"Sorry Mr. M but no. She was here to see Zoe before she went underground. Looks like she gave your boys here the slip."

He couldn't have kept the satisfaction out of his tone even if he'd wanted to. Al smirked and didn't add that if McNamara hadn't let Rachel in to take his grandson then none of this would be happening in the fist place.

He knew better than to say something like that. Tony McNamara was slime but he was slime that paid well, and he had too many outstanding gambling debts to cross him.

"Yes…indeed. I shall have to do something about their incompetence of course."

The tone of his voice sent chills down the cop's spine.

"Mr. M I think we might have a bigger problem then just Rachel," Al finally worked up the nerve to say.

"Oh and what might that be?"

"Boudreaux…he disappeared last night. I think he might be helping her. He disappeared right after questioning Ms. Reynolds after all."

"I'm not worried about Boudreaux. I don't care if she seduced the stupid inbred snit and rallied him to her side. It will give her some company for the shallow grave I'm going to have her planted in. Find her, find Boudreaux, and most importantly find my grandson."

McNamara hung up and Al winced, knowing that the crime lord meant every single word. He shrugged. It was too bad really. He'd liked Nate, he was a good guy, but…orders were orders.

* * *

Rachel woke up to find the sun streaming into the shabby hotel room. With a groan she lifted herself from the lumpy mattress only to have the night's events come rushing back.

Without thinking she immediately stretched her hand out next to her only to find Nate gone. Twisting her body around to face his side of the bed brought her face to face with the empty space and the note he had left for her. A moment of panic gripped her as she reached for the small white paper and tentatively opened it.

Bon matin cher,

You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you. I had to go out for a bit but I will be back soon. Try to get some more sleep; you look like you need it.

Nate

P.S. We need to talk.

As she placed the simple note on the nightstand the next emotion she experienced was complete and utter confusion. She was confused by the feelings Nate could tap in her and she was also confused by the fact that he had held her through the night, never once taking advantage of her emotional turmoil.

A lot of guys she had known would have taken last night as a sign of weakness on her part and as a chance to show her who was in charge. Nate hadn't done that and she didn't know how to react.

She sighed, got up, and decided to raid the shower, making sure to make a lot of noise to scare off any unwanted six legged intruders. She stripped off her jeans and top and stepped into the surprisingly warm spray, letting the hot water ease her tired muscles.

Rachel was well into a fantasy were the water caressing her body had turned into Nate's hands, when she heard the door to the room open. Shaking off her traitorous thoughts, she quickly finished her shower, dried off, and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a white spaghetti strap tank top that left her mid-riff bare.

She emerged from the bathroom to find Nate scowling intently at the morning newspaper with a bagel and a Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of him. He was still dressed in the rumpled suit that he had been wearing last night and there was a day's growth of golden brown stubble on his chin. It made him look sexy. She scowled.

"You look like hell Boudreaux," she snarked. He didn't look up from the paper.

"There are bagels and coffee if you want it."

Her scowl turned into a small-confused frown when he failed to respond to her baiting tone. She eyed him and sat down in the chair in front of him and went about the routine of breakfast. After ten minutes of silence and two sips of coffee she couldn't take it anymore.

"Well," she hissed. Nathan put down the paper and gave her level look.

"Well what?"

She glared at him.

"Aren't you going to do the guy thing?"

He looked confused. "Guy thing?"

She huffed. "You know the guy thing. Me Tarzan, you Jane and all that bullshit."

Nathan blinked and narrowed his blue gaze. He should have known that this was coming. He could tell that she was just raring for a knock down drag out fight with him and it reassured him in a strange way.

It meant that she hadn't been broken. He could think of nothing that would wound him more than Rachel emotionally beaten down, especially because of slime like McNamara.

"Why would I do that Rachel," he asked carefully. He was curious to see her reaction.

She blinked and her eyes filled with confusion.

"Because in case you missed it Boy Scout I completely lost it last night."

He stared at her like she had lost her ever-loving mind.

"Rachel," he began, patient. "Everyone loses it now and then. What kind of person would I be to rub your nose in situation that would have put most people in the nut house? Only an idiot doesn't know when to cry."

Rachel was speechless for a moment. She scowled.

"Yeah right, like supercop has ever broken down and cried like a baby."

Nate froze and his whole body went stiff. A warning bell sounded through Rachel's mind as she realized she had struck a nerve.

She felt shiver go down her spine. Nathan held her gaze and calmly put his paper on the table.

"I left New Orleans to work here because I had a nervous breakdown after I saw my partner, Elizabeth, rapped and gutted with a hunting knife by a group of drug smugglers from Columbia. They had beaten us both and strung us up in the middle of the Bayou. The DEA found us three days later where they had left me to rot, but not without making sure I would see my dead partner hanging from her own entrails every time I opened my eyes."

He didn't add the fact that they had been lovers, but then, Rachel didn't need to know that.

Nate got up and walked to the far side of the room to stare out the window. Rachel tracked him with her gaze and felt guilt squeeze her heart. She had been accused of being a hard nose, cast iron bitch many times, but she'd never felt as much like one as she did in this moment.

Cursing herself roundly she closed her eyes, collected herself, opened them, and walked over to him. She stared at his ridged back for a moment and hugged him from behind. He stiffened and then gradually relaxed against her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He sighed and a tremor went though his body. She could feel the muscles of his back ripple as he fought for control of his memories. Nate collected himself and without turning to face her, he asked.

"Tell me about your son?"

It was Rachel's turn to sigh.

"You talked to Tony Sr. I take it?" she said, ruefully. She separated herself from him, wrapped her arms protectively around her midsection, and sat on the bed, frowning. He turned to face her.

"I got pregnant with Ezekiel with I was twenty. Tony Jr. was the father and of course I thought he loved me. I was wrong. I walked in on him fucking my best friend, and while I was standing there in shock, watching him driving his cock into her, the cops bust down the front door, raided us, and burned all of us for possession. Seems Tony was a good little drug dealer, out learning the business for daddy. Too bad he also like to use the stuff he sold. His drug abuse is the reason he was cut off from his old man. I tell you Boy Scout it's good we are only young and foolish once."

Her self deprecating tone was not lost on him but he knew that she needed to get it all out so he didn't interrupt. A minute or two passed and she continued.

"After the bust Tony denied the baby was his I didn't push it. We were doing fine for the first few months but what I hadn't counted on was Tony telling dear old dad he'd knocked me up. Tony Sr. decided that he wanted to groom a better heir for his criminal empire and my son became the prize. He bribed a judge to take Zeke away from me and declare me unfit to be a parent. I was crushed. Around that time I started working for Lil, intent on saving up enough money to get my son back. That's when Tony showed up again.

I had visiting rights because the judge couldn't get me cut off completely. Tony threatened to get those rights revoked if I didn't give him money when he needed a little scratch. I was afraid of losing my son completely so I paid him and have been paying him for the last four and a half years. Now though, with Tony Jr. dead, I knew that Tony Sr. would use it as an excuse to take my son away from me completely. I couldn't let him do that Nate. I just couldn't."

Silence hung think and heavy after Rachel's confession. She wasn't really sure how he would react considering she had just told him that she kidnapped her son. She half expected him to slap the handcuffs on and drag her downtown, but he surprised her.

"The way I see it we have two problems. First we need to find out who killed Tony Jr."

"And second?" She asked hopefully.

"Second, we make sure that these bastards can't so much as look at you and your son ever again."

Rachel's eyes snapped to his, stunned by the force behind his last statement. On impulse she walked up to him, pulled his lips to hers and brushed her mouth over his in a soft kiss. When she pulled back his gaze reflected his surprise and confusion.

"What was that for?"

Her lips twisted into an impish grin.

"Distraction. I didn't want you to go all Tarzan on me and start treating me like the little woman."

He blinked uncomprehendingly and then laughed.

"I must be perverse because I do so love that sassy mouth of yours."

She smirked. "Yeah well, don't get use to it boy scout."

They were interrupted when his cell phone started ringing. Rachel narrowed her whiskey gaze and glared at him accusingly.

"Relax cher, it's just Jessie."

Her glare dimmed a few shades but didn't disappear completely.

"Bourdeaux," he barked into the receiver and promptly pulled it away from his ear.

"Where the hell have you been! The whole damn department is looking for you."

He grimanced and lied.

"I needed to get some sleep so I turned my phone off and crashed at a local motel."

There was a pause and the other end and Nate inwardly cursed. Nate had been her partner for three years and he had a poker face that could trick the devil, but Jessie new he was lying.

Suspicious she said. "I can't decide which is funnier, the fact that you are full of it or the fact that you actual expect me to buy that. Give me the real reason, Nate."

"Sorry cher, this is a party line."

His partner cursed roundly and he held the phone away from his ear again until she was done.

"Shit Nate, you sure know how to fuck up a girl's day. Now listen up 'cause I'm only saying this once. The captain owes me a favor so I can keep the dogs off your ass for forty-eight hours. After that everyone and their grandmother is going to be looking for you. So whatever brilliant plan you have you had better put it into action now."

"What happens after forty-eight hours?" he asked, amused at her bossy tone.

"Armageddon," she shot back and then suddenly grew quiet. The silence stretched and Jessie cleared her throat.

"Nate…they went after Shamus."

All the amusement that had been in Nate's face drained away in the wake of his white-hot fury.

"They did what?' he growled and shot a look at Rachel. The coyote didn't miss it and he could almost see the impatience flowing around her like a malevolent aura.

"He's okay Nate. I had a couple of uniforms on him, people I trust. They stopped McNamara's goons before they even cleared the front door. Still, if they are going after a retired cop, especially one as well decorated as Shamus then they must be getting desperate."

He cursed, low, and she silently echoed his sentiments.

"Keep the guards on him for as long as you can, cher. I'll try to check-in later."

"I will and take care of yourself," she replied and hung up. Nate's expression had turned thunderous and Rachel shot him a questioning look. He could almost see the curiosity flowing out of her like a raging flood.

"Well," she grounded out, impatient.

"We have a forty-eight hour stay of execution."

She nodded and bent down to start putting on her boots. Watching her Nate had a short internal debate with himself on whether or not to tell her about her grandfather. He didn't want to give her anything else to worry about, but he figured that she would skin him alive if he wasn't strait with her.

"Rachel there is something else."

"And what's that?" She asked, not looking up from her task. Nate continued with great reluctance.

"McNamara went after your grandfather last night." Her head shot up and he hurried to reassure her. "He's all right. The guards Jessie had put on him stopped them before they could even clear the front door."

"Son of a bitch," she cursed. The implications of what Nate had just told her didn't escape her. She hadn't been worried about her granddad because he was a local legend with the force. His reputation had been enough to keep McNamara at bay for this long and she figured he wouldn't want to risk the attention.

Going after Shamus was dangerous for the crime lord, which meant that he was getting desperate, and if he was desperate enough to go after Shamus…Rachel didn't want to complete that thought.

"I need to find a phone that doesn't have a party line," she said and finished pulling on her socks and lacing up her steel-toed docs.

"Why?" He asked, suspicious. He had suspected a more emotional response to his latest bomb, but he should have known better. Rachel was back in control.

"Because I need to check in with Cleopatra Jones and see if she had uncovered anything yet."

"Cleo-who?"

He looked perplexed. Rachel grinned and rolled her eyes.

"Sheesh Boy Scout haven't you ever had a bad movie night? Black female super-spy kicking bad guy ass while every strand of hair stayed perfectly in place."

Bemused he shook his head. "Sorry, I missed that one. So, black female super spy…Zoe? It's probably not a good idea to call Zoe. McNamara will have her phones tapped."

"I know, that's why I told her to call Vi if she had anything. McNamara doesn't know about Vi. She wasn't at Coyote Ugly long enough to catch his attention."

He frowned deep in thought, trying to come up with a better approach, but he didn't have a better plan. Besides, if Zoe was already checking on something for Rachel then she would be their best lead. Rachel was right, at least using someone who McNamara might not think to watch was slightly less dangerous than calling Cammie or Zoe directly.

"All right lets find a pay phone." _And maybe we will get out of this alive,_ he thought. He only hoped Zoe had found something useful. He had a feeling nothing short of a miracle would do.


	5. Chapter 5

The crowded corridors of NYU echoed with the conversation of students making there slow drudging path through the world of academia. Zoe noticed that some of the girls she passed looked like they were barely out of diapers. _To be eighteen again,_ she thought with a sigh.

She sighed. She wasn't here to reminisce about her undergraduate years; she was here to find the little black book of the late judge Harding. Purposefully she made her way down the hall. She knew exactly where she was going and no one challenged her until she reached the staff offices the judge had made his home away from home for almost three years.

The obstacle in her way was short, male, and smiling at her like she was the soup de jour. With an annoyed sigh she went up to short, lumpy, and stupid and pasted a wide smile on her face.

"Well now, let me guess, you're definitely not a professor, but I think I would have remembered a student of your…caliber. I'm Professor Browning, I would be happy to render any assistance you might be in need of."

The shabbily dressed gentleman leered at her when he offered said help and she choked back the bile that had risen up in her esophagus.

"I would love to take you up on that after I take a three year shower and cloak myself in holy water and garlic," Zoe replied, in the sweetest possible tone she could manage. The professor gave her a confused look, which hardened when her words instead of her flirtatious tone registered.

He visible bristled. "Yes…well, I was merely offering my help, but I see you would rather speak to someone else. Unfortunately, I am the only one here right now and I'm afraid that the offices are for faculty and students only."

Zoe thought about flashing her student ID but quickly decided against it. She didn't want anyone knowing that a student was interested in Harding's old office; it would make her too easy to trace. Resigned, she realized that the road block in front of her seemed to be her best way to get inside his office unnoticed, so she decided to soothe his ruffled feathers.

"No I'm sorry. It has been a very rough day and I had a long night at work tending bar and fending off unwanted hands."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She hadn't worked at Coyote Ugly since starting Law school and even then no one touched her without her permission, not unless they wanted to see the business end of Rachel's fist. Zoe was no featherweight herself, although she preferred to make fun, not war. Still what roadblock didn't know wasn't going to hurt him. Her little fib apparently worked because the grin was back, along with the leer.

"I guess getting hit on so soon after that would be a little annoying," he said, a bit sheepishly. Zoe had the insane urge to pat him on the head and say good dog but resisted. Instead she smiled wider.

"Apology accepted, but unfortunately work isn't the half of it. I just found out that I accidentally turned in my roommate's term paper instead of mine. I need to get to my professor's mail box before tomorrow so I can switch them out."

Using her not inconsiderable sensuality Zoe forced a flirtatious note into her voice and pouted prettily. It had the desired effect.

"We aren't really suppose to do this but…well, I'll let you in, but be sure to hurry."

He opened the door and she smiled her thanks, willing her face not to break. Once clear of her new admirer she allowed her mouth to revert back to the frown she'd been sporting earlier and rubbed her jaw.

She looked around suspiciously and moved to the back offices. Moments later she managed to find the one that still had the plaque bearing the good judge's name. The door was locked, but that didn't stop Zoe, who'd picked up more than hot dance moves and fighting skills working for Lil.

Feeling a little too much like a character in a mediocre detective novel she started riffling the drawers and looking though papers, all the while keeping an ear cocked for her roadblock. Five minutes went by and then ten. Finding nothing she cursed and then froze when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an old case file that had been left open on the Judge's desk.

With a start of surprise Zoe picked up the file and started reading, a slow smile stretching across her lips. With quick and steady hands and without a flicker of conscience she rolled the file papers into a tube and stuck them into the waistband of her jeans. Arranging the top she wore to hide them as best as she could.

Normally she would have made copies, but lack of time and the assurance that she was the first person to enter this office in weeks made it all a moot point. With the file stored, she quickly shut off the lights, locked, and closed the door. She'd just rounded the corner when she had the disadvantage to run headfirst into her friendly neighborhood brick wall.

"What happened? Did you get lost?" He asked, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. She graced him with a nervous smile and a small laugh.

"You know I did, but I eventually found the mail room." She shrugged helplessly and the suspicion in his eyes dimmed a bit.

He arched an eyebrow. "Find what you were looking for?"

"You know it," she said and held up the rolled report. "Thanks…you saved my ass."

"Then how about a date? Saturday…my place."

He was leering again and she faltered, not sure exactly how she was going to get out of this one, until a mischievous thought came to her.

She smiled; a slow, flirtatious smile. "Sure. Could be fun."

She took a pen from a nearby table and wrote the name 'Carly Bishop' on his hand along with a number. He smiled and licked his lips.

"Wear something…sexy."

"Oh, you know it, hon," she purred. Her smile got her past him, down the hall, and out the door, but she didn't let herself start laughing until she was outside. She couldn't help it and she wondered how well her roadblock was going to react to when he called Coyote Ugly and asked for Lil's Great Dane.

Her chuckles died down to a smirk. She had a feeling he wasn't going to be too thrilled. Humming happily, Zoe crossed the street and went strait to a pay phone. Dialing the number she needed to call from memory she waited impatiently for the person on the other end to pick up. Finally, after the fifth ring a familiar female voice answered.

"Stanford residence."

"Vi you aren't going to believe what I found out."

* * *

Rachel and Nate checked out of the hotel room as soon as the detective had showered and changed. While he was out this morning he had hit a second hand store for a change of clothes. Rachel had to admit that the simple black T-shirt and jeans looked good on him, especially since the T-shirt was a bit too small and hugged his well muscled arms and torso.

With a shiver she turned away. She really needed to stop admiring Nate's body and that including his tight, toned, and well formed ass that was currently being lovingly hugged by worn denim. Her gazed involuntarily drifted down strong thighs and landed on his feet.

His black snake skin boots completed the ensemble. The worn leather, dull with age but still remarkably well kept, complimented the outfit and gave him a dangerous edge. The image of a panther stalking his prey returned to Rachel's mind she shook herself.

She was still confused by her attraction to this complex man. An attraction that, if she were being honest with herself, had started the moment he'd caught her off guard with that first kiss.

She frowned slightly. In a lot of ways he was the quintessential dedicated cop, with all the cop like idiosyncrasies that had made her and her grandfather go rounds with each other. She could deal with the dedicated cop because she understood that side and she could guard her heart against it. It was his other side that was giving her palpitations.

Nate the man was unlike any man she'd ever known. He was respectful, caring, almost…gentle. Equal parts tough and kind he was a conundrum that she had yet to figure out. Watching him, she knew that her problem wasn't one she was going to solve right this second, so she decided to let it go. Sighing, she following him to the pay phone he was currently stalking. With a grin he reached it and held the receiver out to her.

"Your phone milady," he drawled and bowed. She shot him a dark look.

Sarcastically, she spat. "Thank you Sir Galahad."

He grinned wider and her look turned from dark to thunderous while she dropped some change into the slot. She ignored him while dialing Vi's dad's place in Jersey. The phone was answered on the third and a familiar baritone tickled her ear.

"Stanford residence."

Rach remember Vi's dad as a big man with sandy hair and kind eyes. He reminded her of a giant teddy bear.

She smiled softly. "Hey Mr. Stanford, it's Rachel. I need to speak to Vi."

In the background she heard a delighted squeal she recognized immediately as Zeke's. She almost cried out at the sound. She wanted to be there, playing with her son, holding him, kissing him. It wasn't fair that she had to let others take care of him yet again. Her arms ached with the urge to hug him and her heart broke.

On the other end there was a long pause.

"How are you doing Rachel?" The concern she heard surprised her.

"I've been better," she answered, truthfully. His guff snort implied that was putting things lightly.

"I've got someone here who would like to speak to you," he said kindly. He paused and called out to her son. "Zeke that's enough horsy for now, your mom wants to talk to you."

Rachel parted her lips to protest but she stopped by a high pitched excited shriek. Zeke was suddenly there, talking a mile a minute and she had to choke down her suddenly turbulent emotions.

"Mommy, Uncle Bill and Uncle Kevin are playing cowboy with me! I'm the sheriff."

"That's great little man," she croaked; her whole face softening the way it always did with her son.

"Are you having fun with Uncle Kevin and Aunt Vi?"

"Yes…I miss you mommy."

She would not cry she told herself and forced a light note into her voice.

"I miss you too baby. How much does mommy love you?"

"Bunches," he replied. She smiled.

"That's right, now give me a phone hug and then I need to talk to Aunt Vi. Do you remember how to get a phone hug?"

"Uh-huh, I cross my arms and squish." Tears pricked her eyes but she didn't let them fall.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, mommy." She heard him hold the phone away and singsong in his broken four and half you. "Aunt Vi, Aunt Vi…mommy needs to talk to you." Rachel had managed to compose herself when her friend got on the line.

"Hey Rach, I'm glad you called. Zoe found a lead," she said before Rachel could say anything.

Surprised, she asked. "She found the book?"

Vi shook her head. "No, but she found the person responsible for the judge's… err heart attack."

"How is that going to…" she started to say, but Violet cut her off.

"Rachel it was Lindsey Debour."

Rachel's mouth snapped shut. Lindsey had worked with her at Coyote Ugly, but she hadn't lasted long because Lil had not only found out she was junkie; she'd also caught her stealing from her.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why Zoe thought it was important that Lindsey was the last person to be with the judge before he died. Especially since she'd told her that the prostitute at the scene had skipped out on the cops before the body was even cold. Lost in thought over the implications of this information she hadn't realized that Vi had been trying to get her attention.

"Hello! Houston to Rachel!"

"Yeah, sorry Vi…this is just…" She chewed her lower lip. "Did Zoe get an address?"

"1452 North Washington Dr." she replied, naming one of the less hospitable parts of the city and frowning. "Rach…be careful okay?"

"I will Jersey…take care of my son," she said and hung up. On her end Violet reluctantly placed the receiver back in its cradle silently wishing her friend luck.

She was going to need it.

* * *

Tony McNamara had always prided himself on his control. So when one of six priceless antique lamps went flying out of the window of his second story office everyone who worked for him had the good sense not to mention it. They all knew he would serve them their heads on a platter if they did.

Roland Garrison, Tony's right hand man and bodyguard, had watched his boss' temper tantrum without batting an eye. He was a large, emotionless mountain with one purpose in life. Garrison was one of the most malicious and cold-blooded killers in the world.

"Damn that little bitch," Tony spat and paced his office.

"I have the best collection of dirty cops and snitches that money can buy and yet that third rate barmaid has gone so effectively underground that even the dogs can't sniff her out and she has taken my grandson with her."

Scowling hard, he made an effort to composed himself, straightened his clothes, and sat down at his desk, facing his bodyguard.

"Now Roland, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Sir, I wanted to tell you that as you predicted Ms. Barnes is looking for the judge's black book. Ms. Reynolds came sniffing around his old office. She took the bait."

A satisfied smirk crossed the crime lord's thin lips.

"And the prostitute we paid off?"

Roland smiled, it wasn't a nice smile. "Oh, she has been dealt with, along with the book."

"Excellent, now let's see if our rat takes the cheese."

Tony McNamara flexed his fingers and his smirk became a grin.

The day was looking up.

Nate paused in the middle of the sidewalk and frowned. He had an itch between his shoulder blades that just wouldn't leave him be and it was making him uneasy.

He knew the feeling; it was the same feeling he had when he followed Elizabeth into the Bayous of his childhood that fateful day she was killed. His sixth sense had been hammering at him the same way then as it was now.

His eyebrow ticked and he glanced around. Just like the Bayou, the street was too quiet. A bead of sweet rolled down his back and he reached for Rachel before she could push her way impatiently around him. When he grabbed her arm she shot him a glare, a glare he couldn't fully appreciate because he was busy studying his surroundings with all of his senses.

"Nate, come on, we're burning daylight," she growled and tried to pull away. He just held her tighter.

"Be quiet, Rachel," he bit out, a little too harshly. She didn't react well.

"What the fuck, boy sco…"

Quick as lightening he pulled her into a corner and covered her mouth with his. The kiss deepened of its own volition until Nate pulled back. His mouth close to Rachel's ear he whispered.

"The beige sedan across the street two o'clock, the hooker on the corner, and the two subjects on the roof at ten and three."

Confused, but recognizing the urgency in Nathan's voice she pretended to nibble on his ear while she checked the positions he told her. She immediately saw what had alarmed him.

The car was the most noticeable. She could tell immediately that the two guys were obviously watching the apartment building they had been heading towards. The glint of metal on the roof told her why the figures positioned there had spooked him, and either the prostitute was a cross dresser of she was packing. She would bet a week's pay it was the latter.

"Shit," she spat and moved closer to Nate.

"Reeks of a trap don't it cher," he whispered. Rachel was hard pressed to disagree with him. She bit her lower lip in thought. Regardless of the danger she knew that she needed to talk to Lindsay.

"We need to try to sneak in."

He sighed long and deep and she felt it vibrate through her entire body.

"How did I know you were going to say that?" When she didn't seem inclined to answer his rhetorical questioned he sighed again, this time in resignation. "All right, around the back and up the fire escape."

She nodded and they broke apart and headed down a nearby alley.

With and elegant gesture he murmured. "Ladies first."

She glared at him.

"Whatever happened to the man going into danger before the woman," she grumbled and he grinned.

"Chivalry…is dead, besides this way my view is better."

She graced him with a dark look but she allowed him to give her a leg up. Once her back was to him and her fist curled around the first rung, she let a small smile curve her lips.

The banter was helping hold back mind numbing fear and she was grateful to him. Still, the tense silence of the place was damn near overwhelming and by the time they'd reached the top neither was smiling.

Nate shouldered the boarded window at the top open and they slipped inside. Silent as a shadow they started down the hall and a few minutes later they were standing in front of Lindsey's apartment.

Nate knocked, the itch between his shoulder blades burning, and the door swung open the moment his clenched fist touched the scarred wood. Frowning, he pulled his gun and pushed Rachel behind him while they entered the apartment. He suddenly Froze and Rachel ran into his broad back.

"Nate what the…" Her gaze shifted beyond him. "O-Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick."

He barely heard her. Blinking rapidly, he felt his soul scream as the sight before him transported him back into another time, another place. He was trapped in a dark and dank bayou filled with screams of agony and violation, screams he'd been unable stop.

His ears roared and his blood pumped through him as he relived the horrible death of his friend and partner. _Dear God, _his mind bled. _It's the same…the same as Elizabeth._

The dead woman was tacked against the far wall, hanging limply from her own entrails. The woman's limp, blond hair blurred and in his mind was superimposed over the dark curls he'd loved so much, and he was slowly being hurled into his own, personal hell. It was Rachel calling his name that brought him back from the edge.

"Bourdeaux," she said, for the fifth time in the last three minutes and grabbed his head between her hands, forcing his gaze to hers.

His eyes were unfocused but his trembling slowly ground to a halt and he finally saw her.

"Rachel?"

She tenderly caressed his cheek with her thumb.

"Welcome back," she whispered and then grabbed his hand tightly in her own. She parted her lips to tell him they needed to get the hell out of there when he suddenly pushed her out of the way and stepped forward.

She didn't understand what was happening until something warm and sticky oozed over her hand. It took her a minute to realize it was blood and that it was coming from Nate. It took her another moment to realize that that faint pop she had heard had been a gunshot and that Nate had just stepped in front of the bullet.

He clenched his teeth against pain.

"We need to get out of here, cher."

Not one to lose it at the sight of a little blood she nodded and they stumbled out of the apartment, dodging the two shots that whizzed by their heads as they gained the hallway. Through the buzz in her ears Rachel heard the sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs. They were about to become effectively trapped.

Like a cornered animal she started searching for a way out when her eyes landed on an old laundry chute. It appeared to be just big enough for her, but there was no way Nate would fit. Still…it might prove useful.

Propping Nate up against the wall she rubbed some of the blood that had gotten on her hands on the chute, picked up a piece of broken wood, and threw it down the hole.

The wood made a lot of noise and their pursuers heard it. They went straight for the chute while Rachel dragged Nate into the apartment across from were Lindsey had lived. It was empty, which was a relief. Thanking God for small favors Rachel surveyed the small ratty place looking for anything that could help them.

She knew that they only had a few minutes before McNamara's people realized what she had done. They still needed a way out. That is when she noticed the fire escape on the building across the alley. It was a short jump from the window and she knew she could make it, the only problem was could Nate. She went to the window, opened it, and returned to the injured detective.

"Nate we need to get out of here. Can you jump?" She asked. His eyes looked glazed but he was still conscious.

He panted and grunted. "Yeah cher, I can jump."

It wasn't the most reassuring tone but it would have to do. She nodded, went to the window ledge and leaped. Her hands grazed the metal and then gripped it as she pulled herself to safety.

Next Nate jumped and Rachel had a moment of panic, thinking he wasn't going to make it, but with a cry of agony he landed next to her. Quickly they made their way down the fire escape, shouts of anger followed them and shots rained.

They didn't stick around to find out what their pursuers wanted they just ran hell bent for leather down the alleyway.

It was closing time and Lil was busy cleaning up her bar after another successful night. Cammie had gone home early to make sure Rach's grandpa was doing all right and to relieve Leslie for her acting class. The new girl, Rebecca, was behind the bar stocking and cleaning up.

It was unusually quiet for the winding down period and Lil knew the reason. Everyone was worried about Rachel; even Lou was oddly quiet as he helped straiten the few chairs that littered the place.

That is why Lil heard the door as it opened. She was about to tell whoever it was that the place was closed but the waif that stood before her stopped her short. She was sixteen if she was a day, but the streets had aged her.

There was a look in her eyes, a look she recognized. This skinny waif had the same desperate expression on her face that had earned her bar its moniker. She looked like a coyote caught in the trap. Her doe eyes gazed at Lou nervously,and when he shifted she flinched and turned to Lil.

Scared she said. "I'm looking for R-Rachel."

The owner of Coyote Ugly started and narrowed her eyes.

"Rachel's not here but maybe I can help. I'm Lil, I own the place."

The girl looked like she wanted to bolt.

"I haven't seen her all w-week. S-She's in trouble isn't she?"

The girl's words caught Lou and Rebecca's attention and they stopped what they were doing so they could listen. Lil looked long and hard at the teenager and realized that something was seriously wrong. This girl was terrified and she knew Rachel. Suspicious, she watched the girl fidget uneasily. She narrowed her eyes and said.

"Rach is in trouble." The teen's eyes went wide with horror.

"Oh God, I thought so but I wasn't sure and when I didn't see her for awhile…" she trailed off.

"What's your name honey?" Lil asked.

"T-Tracy."

Lil attempted to look reassuring. "All right Tracy, let's get you something to eat and you can tell me what is bothering you."

Tracy looked unsure for a moment but she finally nodded. Lil had a feeling, as she followed the girl to the bar, that things were just about to get interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

Rachel wasn't sure how they managed to get away from McNamara's men, especially since Nate seemed so to be drifting in and out of consciousness. He needed to go to a hospital but he had told her not to take him to one because they are required by law to report gunshot wounds.

Rachel hadn't much cared but the he was being stubborn.

She had grudgingly checked them into a motel room, one that was nicer than the one they had previously been in but not by much. With her help Nate had made it inside and now Rachel was gazing at him in horror. The horror came from what he had just asked her to do.

"You want me to do what?" she shrilled and he winced.

Remaining calm, he repeated. "I want you to pour that bottle of whiskey we just bought into the wound and then take the tweezers and dig the bullet out."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Absolutely not! I am not Florence fucking Nightingale. We have doctors and nurses at hospitals for this kind of shit."

"Hospitals ask questions, cher. I think that little ambush today proves that we can't risk it."

Rachel stared at him. He sounded reasonable and logical but she was sure he was just using that tone to mask the fact that he was out of his goddamn mind.

"Nate…I can't do this."

He sighed. In one smooth motion he removed his shirt revealing the muscles of his torso. Rachel gasped and felt warmth flood her stomach and drift lower.

His serious blue gaze captured hers. "Rachel…you have to, there's no one else."

He turned his back to her and she gasped again but for a different reason. She had seen him without his shirt before but never in this much light.

The bright glow of the lamp revealed to her not only the gun shot wound that had crusted over with dried blood but a series of scars that cris-crossed his back. With a tentative hand she reached out and traced one of them and felt him stiffen.

She sucked in a ragged breath and whispered. "Did they do this too you?"

"Yes," he breathed.

He knew the "they" she was referring to were the drug dealers that had killed his partner. He sighed as her soft hands traced another one of the cane marks. They had beaten him with a riding crop and he knew that it made him less than pretty.

"Do they bother you?"

It was insane but he was still a little self-conscious about the marks. People tended to ask him questions he would rather not answer when they saw them so he usually kept them hidden. Rachel seemed to sense the venerability behind his last question and decided to answer him honestly.

She sighed.

"Yes and no." She elaborated. "Yes, because I can only imagine the kind of pain they must cause you, and no, because they are part of who you have become."

With one last gently caress along one of his scars she pulled away. Nate sucked in a ragged breath. Her answer was telling and he felt his heart thump double time.

He was also grateful that she wasn't pushing for more of an explanation. Not for the first time did the thought cross his mind that she was an amazing woman.

"Thank you cher."

"You're welcome," she said softly and shook herself. With a hard glare at his back she steeled herself for the next task.

"Go lay down."

He nodded and complied and she straddled his back so she had better access to the wound. Nate bit his tongue to keep the groan from slipping from his lips. Rachel straddling him, her hot core pressed to his naked back, was a form of torture he didn't need right now.

She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. "This is going to hurt."

The abrupt change of subject caused a grin to cross Nate's handsome face. That was the other thing he was beginning to love about Rachel, her ability to jump from one emotion to the next like she was down shifting a racecar.

The sudden flash of pain as the whisky hit his wound wiped the smile from his face and he gritted his teeth. It didn't just hurt when she poured the copper liquid on the open nerve endings, it felt like a nest of fire ants had taken up residence under his skin.

He cursed but managed not to cry out. He wasn't as successful when she started digging into his flesh with the sterile tweezers to extract the bullet and any fabric that might have gotten stuck in his back.

His face was gray and beaded with sweat by the time she was done. Without a word she bandaged and wrapped his shoulder, moving off of him so she could fasten the tie. She looked as pale as he did.

"I have to go wash my hands," she said dully and practically ran from him and into the bathroom.

He understood so he gave her a moment to compose herself, until ten minutes had passed and she still wasn't out. Concerned that she might have fainted, not that he could see Rachel fainting at anything, he went to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Rachel," he called softly. She didn't answer. More concerned now he let himself in only to see her standing in front of the mirror staring at her reflection.

"Rachel?" Her haunted hazel eyes met his blue ones in the mirror and in one move she turned and dragged his mouth to hers in a kiss. Stunned Nate returned the kiss while his arms went around her waist and pulled her body to his.

He felt his own body instantly tighten as her cloth covered breasts brushed his naked chest. Still he kissed her, letting his tongue lavishly explore her hot mouth, it wasn't until he felt her hands undo the snap of his jeans that he stilled and pulled away.

"Rachel what's this?" He asked, confused.

When she looked at him her eyes were flecked golden with desire and he felt himself drowning in her liquid gaze. She pulled her top off to reveal small pert breasts, her rose colored peaks hardening under his hot gaze. She then pulled him back to her and rubbed them across his muscled chest causing them both to gasp.

"Make love to me," she whispered in his ear and he groaned. He was shocked, but his surprise quickly gave away to desire as she tailed a wet path from his hard jaw down the column of his neck with her mouth. Still he hesitated.

"Are you sure Rachel?"

She responded by brushing her hand over the bulge in his jeans. He needed no other encouragement as he picked her up; her legs instinctively went around his waist as he carried her to the bed. A gasp of pain escaped him when her arm bumped her shoulder and she instantly stilled.

"Oh God Nate, maybe we shouldn't your shoulder…" she started to say but it ended on a gasp. He'd bent his head and sucked her right breast into his hot mouth. She felt his tongue swirl around the hardened peak and she moaned. Heat shot from her breast to her sex and she bucked against him. He gasped.

The gasp turned to a moan as they shifted position and she could feel his hard member straining against her wet core. With sure hands she helped him remove his jeans, hers quickly following.

Finally no barriers remained between them. Nate grinned at her wickedly and moved to lavish her neglected breast while his hand caressed the one he'd left. She withered and reached for him but he shook his head and pushed her hands away.

"Nate," she growled. "I need you inside me."

"Not yet," he rasped and started kissing his way in between her mounds down her taut belly only to grin at her when he reached the apex of her thighs. She panted harder when she realized what he was about to do.

"Nate," she moaned. He placed a kiss on her inner thigh and then another and another. She felt his hot breath dance over her bare sex and she bucked her hips. The smooth lips beckoned him and he ran his tongue between her soft folds. She hissed loudly and when he found the tight bundled of nerves and sucked it between his masterful lips she keened.

His tongue and teeth devoured her and she fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him closer as she felt the delicious pressure in her abdomen build. Mindless with lust she thrashed and when he sucked hard on her clit she came screaming his name.

Nate crawled up her body and positioned himself over her. With sure hands she caressed him, causing him to tremble and then guided him to her. He entered her in one smooth stroke.

"Oh God Nate," she cried. Her first orgasm hadn't dissipated and the feeling of him stretching her intensified the pleasure.

He captured her lips and a deep, sultry kiss and started to move. His injured shoulder was all but forgotten as he plunged into her warmth, coming all the way out before driving in again.

They danced together to an age-old song that only they could hear. He took her higher and higher, going faster, deeper until she was mumbling incoherently. They peaked together and Rachel screamed his name.

It was a long time before they found their way back to earth.

* * *

Rachel sat by the window and watched Nate's chest rise and fall in sleep. With a sigh she realized that things had just become much more complicated and she had no one to blame but herself.

He'd almost gotten killed because of her yesterday and it had scared her. It had scared her so badly that she had pretty much thrown herself at him and ravaged him. She didn't care, and strangely enough that thought didn't bother her as much as it should have.

Rachel had needed to feel his warm body gloriously alive, gliding over hers. She had needed to know that he was really going to be all right because somewhere along the way she had gone and fallen in love with him. Not exactly her smartest move but then again nothing about this had been smart.

She sighed, looked out into the dawning day, and sighed again. Just as quickly the rage came, hot, thick, and molten. Here she was hiding away in a shitty little motel room, forced to leave her son, and Tony McNamara was sitting in his mansion living off the misery of others, it just wasn't fair.

Pissed, she started to pace, but one glance at Nate caused her expression to soften. The anger came again when she saw the blood soaked bandage that covered his upper back. That bastard could have killed him and there would have been nothing she could have done about it.

A cry of rage clawed at her throat as Rachel dressed in a black on black ensemble that made her look like the angel of death coming to reek vengeance on the unsuspecting. She was in the process of pulling on her boots when she spotted the gun Nate had pulled yesterday.

A speculative gleam entered her eyes as she watched the sunlight catch on the steel. Her whole being suddenly filled with resolve as she took the gun, garbed the keys to Kevin's convertible, and let herself quietly out of the motel room.

She suddenly felt better than she had in almost a week.

She was tired; tired of running and she decided that it was time that Antony McNamara paid the piper.

Nathan groaned as the early morning sunlight steaming in through the window burned his eyelids. Half-awake he groaned and felt like passing out when the movement aggravated his shoulder. He gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain and stretched out his arm, only to frown when he encountered cool sheets.

He blinked. Rachel was gone. Panic gripped him until he rationalized that she probably just went to get coffee or something like that. Still his unease remained, that is why when his cell phone rang he jumped and hit his shoulder against the headboard. Cursing he scooped up the offending piece of technology and answered.

"Boudreaux."

"Nate, wherever you are get your happy ass out of bed and meet me at Coyote Ugly," Jessie's voice snapped on the other end. "And bring Rachel with you."

He sat up straighter, his partner sounded excited. "What's going on Jess?"

"We got him Nate; we got the bastard dead to rights. Murder one."

He frowned, he felt like he had missed a page somewhere.

"Cher, what are you talking about?"

"McNamara, we've got his slippery ass. Lil called me this morning with a very interesting story. Seems there is this street kid named Tracy who Rachel was helping out now and again. She had been waiting outside of the bar for her to get off when these two guys got out of this big expensive car. They were arguing and then Tracy sees the older of the two pull out a small gun and shoot the other one in the back of the head. She then told Lil she saw this big guy get out and throw the body in the trunk. Are you following me here Boudreaux, the kid ID Tony Sr. as the shooter and you will never believe who the stiff was."

"Let me guess, Tony Jr."

The news caused his lips to curl into a grin and least he had been grinning until he noticed his holster; his expression then turned to one of dread as he realized what he was seeing.

"Give the man a gold star," he heard his partner say. He didn't respond. Nate felt his blood turn to ice in his veins as he made the next leap and realized where Rachel had gone.

"Jessie you are going to have to come get me, and bring your extra gun," he said urgently.

"Why?" She asked, suspicious.

"Because Rachel has gone after McNamara," he replied grimly. He only hoped that they got to her in time.

* * *

Rachel stayed silent as the guard by the gate went by and then quickly made her way into the back entrance of the Nursery. She had been in the house many times before during her visits to her son and also when she was dating Tony Jr.

She knew exactly where she was going and exactly how to get there undetected that is why she was in just the right spot in McNamara's office when he finally arrived for the day. She watched him from her hiding place as he met with his secretary and his bodyguard just like a normal executive would, only this time instead of the discussing the stock market they were making plans to move a large shipment of cocaine into New Orleans.

When both the walking mountain and the eighteen-year-old in the mini skirt left Rachel made her move. She moved up behind the man who had so effectively ruined her life and placed the cold steel gun barrel of the semi-automatic pistol she had stolen from Nate behind his ear. She drew the hammer back, it clicked and McNamara stilled.

"Well hello Rachel. What took you so long? I expected you days ago?"

Rachel didn't miss the catch in his voice.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I never was real good at keeping appointments."

She moved to face him, keeping the gun leveled at his head. She wanted him to see her when she pulled the trigger.

"No matter, I have to admit I didn't expect this. I was picturing something along the lines of you trying to bargain with me for your son."

"I'm just full of surprises Tony, and here's another one. I have decided that you are a piece of scum and society would be better off with out you. So, I'm going to kill you."

At first Tony felt like laughing, he didn't think that Rachel had the guts to kill him that is until he felt the gun barrel jammed tighter against his head. This time when he spoke he sounded less sure of himself.

He kept his tone even and reasonable and replied. "Oh come, come Rachel, you aren't going to kill me. You will lose your son forever and everything you have accomplished will have been in vain."

"You're right I will and believe me when I say that it is going to slowly kill me not to be able to hold my son in my arms and watch him grow, but you know what? I would rather him grow up with strangers then spend another minute in this house with you. You should have known better than to back a coyote into a corner."

Rachel's eyes were hard as she leveled the gun at his head. Real fear crossed McNamara's face as he realized that the game he'd been playing with his grandson's mother had just exploded in his face.

"See you in hell," she said with no hint of emotion. Her finger started to tighten on the trigger.

Nate had a feeling of stone cold dread in the pit of his stomach as he watched Jesse go rounds with the security guard at the gate of Tony McNamara's home. The feeling didn't go away when she apparently won and the glided gate's swung open to admit them onto the grounds.

The feeling quadrupled, as they were lead to Tony Sr. outer office by one of McNamara's staff only to be obstructed once again by Barbie's teenage sister Skipper, or Tony Sr. secretary. She was young, blond, sleek and as cold as ice.

Jesse glanced at the nameplate on the girl's desk. "Listen…Missy is it?"

The girl cocked one perfectly plucked eyebrow and Jessie swallowed her growl.

"I don't give a good goddamn if Tony is entertaining the President of the United States in there. We need to see him."

The girl gave his unflappable partner a cool disdainful glance.

"Mr. McNamara is unavailable. Perhaps if you had made an appointment he would have been able to fit you in, otherwise I'm afraid you will have to leave."

Jesse placed her hands on the girl's desk and leveled a steely glare.

"Next time I come Barbie I'm will have an appointment. It will be called a warrant and you can bet your ass I will haul you in for obstruction of justice."

The girl went stiff and Nate felt that was his cue. He graced her with his best charming smile.

"Please Ms. Andrews," he drawled. "You will have to excuse my partner. I assure you that we just need to have a friendly civilized chat with your boss and I'm sure Mr. McNamara would be glad to corporate if you would just ask…"

Nate was cut off by the appearance of a small walking mountain. Roland Garrison had entered the room and made a direct beeline for the two officers.

"I'm afraid that you will have to leave," he said, his tone flat and unwelcoming.

Nate narrowed his eyes. He had that familiar itch between his shoulder blades.

He was sure he knew this man but he couldn't place him. He was on the verge of asking him where they'd met before but Jesse spoke before he could.

"Mr. Garrison," Jesse sneered. "Nate, meet Roland Garrison, Tony's right hand man and the only guy on earth harder to nail than McNamara."

He leered. "Jessica darling, if you wanted to nail me all you had to do was ask."

Nate watched emotions ranging from hate to disgust cross her delicate features and he was afraid he was going to have to physically restrain her.

Nate decided to be diplomatic.

"Mr. Garrison we would just like to ask your boss a few questions."

Roland was about to tell him were he could stick his request when a light started flashing in the outer office.

He cursed and started for the door to Tony Sr. office. Jessie and Nate were right behind him. Nate's heart jumped into his throat when they entered and saw what was happening. Rachel was standing not five feet in front of him and she held a gun to Tony's head.

"Rachel, don't do it!"

She turned and surprise crossed her features. Nate had pulled his gun and she was staring down the barrel of Jessie's spare .38.

Betrayal lodged in her gut when she shifted her gaze and saw Jessie standing next to Roland Garrison, both with weapons drawn. Angry tears streaked down her face but she didn't lower the gun she still had pointed at Tony.

"Rachel put it down," she heard Jessie say.

The woman she'd thought her friend inched toward her. She tightened her grip on her pistol and growled.

"Back off, Jess. You don't want to tempt me right now."

Jessie took the hint and stopped, but she didn't lower her gun.

"Rachel please, put the gun down," Nate entreated.

Her head snapped to him and her eyes were hard as she gazed at form of the man she had made love to a few hours ago. The only thing she saw in his eyes now was a cop doing his job. She felt her heart clench.

Tears stung her eyes and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "What are you going to do Nate? Shoot me? I'm already dead. Tony killed me the day he took my son away from me and now I'm going to kill him. He has hurt too many people I love. He doesn't deserve to live."

Jessie spoke, pleading. "Rachel, listen to me. You're not like him. You're not a killer and he isn't going to hurt anyone anymore. Not you, the people you love, or anyone else for that matter. Rach we got him. He's going to jail."

Rachel stared at her and blinked, the words swirling through her tired mind. She looked at the gun in her hand and started to shake. It was the moment when the implications of what she had been about to do hit her.

She was still shaking when Jessie cautiously crept closer too her and gently took the gun from her hand. She gave up without a fight. She felt was numb.

It was over, it was over and she had almost killed a man. Rachel felt her stomach lurch. She was going to be sick. Jessie took her wrist and began to lead her towards the door but before either of them could react, McNamara jumped out of his chair and shot Jessie with the gun he'd mounted under his desk. Red spouted and Jess hit the ground while he snaked an arm around Rachel's throat. She yelped and went still when she felt the cold barrel of his gold plated .22 caliber pistol, resting against her temple. Her horrified gaze landed on her friend, she wasn't moving.

"Jesse!" She screamed and at the same time Nate growled. "Drop the gun, Tony."

The crime lord sneered at him and pressed the gun tighter to Rachel's head. Nate grimaced was about to repeat his earlier demand when something cold and familiar touched the back of his neck.

"I suggest that you drop your gun," the man behind the detective said.

Nate froze and met Rachel's fear filled eyes. He cursed. He'd forgotten about the bodyguard. Nate lowered his weapon and Roland took it from him.

"How does it feel bitch," Tony spat and grounded the gun tighter into her skull.

All trace of the prime and proper businessman gone. Rachel had to force herself not to cry out and instead glared daggers at her captor. Tony wasn't paying any attention to her, however, as he watched as his bodyguard force Nate deeper into the office.

"If you hurt her Tony I swear to God I'll…" Nate's threat trailed off.

Only someone who knew him well would have been able to pick up the hint of fear in his voice.

"You'll what? Arrest me? Kill me? Empty threats Mr. Boudreaux since Roland seems to have you at a disadvantage, of course Roland always seems to have you at a disadvantage does he not?"

Nate blinked, confused. He'd thought the bodyguard familiar but he still couldn't place him and he had no idea what McNamara was talking about. Roland didn't seem eager to shed any light on the subject.

"What shall I do with them Mr. McNamara?" Roland asked his boss. Tony Sr. looked thoughtful.

"Well that depends on Ms. Barnes. Rachel dear, you have one small advantage because you have something I want. So I will offer you not only your life but also the life of your lover along with one million dollars cash for the return of my grandson. All you have to do is leave and never return. I think it is a generous offer, much more generous than you deserve."

"Rachel no! You can't! We saw him kill Jessie; he can't let us live!" Nate screamed.

Roland thumped him across the jaw with the butt of his gun. His head snapped to the side and coppery blood filled his mouth. Rachel winced; turning hate filled eyes to her captor.

"You really are a bastard Tony." He snarled something foul and slapped her. Her head snapped back and she glared.

"Now, now Rachel I know you are low class, gutter trash but you really should have learned to respect your elders more."

Rachel wasn't listening. Her hazel eyes were caught by Jessie's alert green orbs and the gun she was fingering with her right hand.

A feeling of pure joy rushed through Rachel when she realized her friend was not dead and with it came a half formed impulsive plan to get them all out of this. Jesse saw the glint in Rachel's eyes and her hand tightened on the gun. She nodded imperceptibly and prepared herself to react to whatever Rachel was going to do.

Rachel turned cool eyes on Tony. "All right, you have a deal."

Nate sucked in a sharp breath.

"Rachel you can't!" he yelled and started to struggle.

Roland punched him in the stomach. The blow drove him to his knees and for the mere flash of an instant Roland's gun was aimed away from him.

It was what she had been waiting for. Rachel snarled brought the heel of her steel toed doc's down on the crime lord's instep and hit him as hard as she could in the groin. He screamed in agony and his grip loosened enough for Rachel to get free. She stumbled out of his grasp and fell to the floor in front of him but before she could so much as blink he recovered and pointed the gun straight at her heart.

Nate and Roland saw her move and the bodyguard tried to turn his gun on Rachel, but before he could pull the trigger Nate was up and on him. He caught the bodyguard around the waist and managed to knock the gun out of his hand. It skidded across the floor and landed in the far corner of the room.

With a growl Roland backhanded the Nate, causing blood to fly from his mouth onto the expensive carpet. He came at him again knocking the detective to the ground with another punch. Boudreaux hit the plush carpet with a thud and felt the wind leave his lungs. Roland kicked Nate in the side and this time he felt his ribs crack.

Groaning he tried to crawl away but Roland grabbed his leg and pulled him back toward him. It was the mistake Nate had been waiting for. Using the momentum against his enemy Nate twisted his body and kicked with all his might. The heel of his boot slammed into Roland's groin and the walking mountain screamed in agony.

With arms that were shaky at best Nathan pushed himself up and managed to stand. He grimaced and grabbed a nearby lamp, using his remaining strength to smash it across the other man's skull.

Roland went down like a slaughtered bull. After freeing himself from the clutches of McNamara's hired muscle Nate turned to face the crime lord and froze in terror. Tony Sr. had a gun pointed at Rachel's chest and there was no doubt in Nate's mind that he was going to kill her.

"You stupid whore!" McNamara screamed.

Rachel had a brief instant to stare down the instrument of her death before the shot rang out. The next instant she opened her eyes and realized that she wasn't dead, she should have been but she wasn't. She blinked, confused. That was when she looked up and saw the blossoming stain spread across Tony's chest.

He stared at her in disbelief, dropped down to his knees, and fell next to his desk…dead.

Rachel gazed at his corpse and felt no remorse. She turned away and dropped down next to Jessie, who still had her gun aimed at the spot were McNamara had been standing. The movement, however, seemed to have torn the hole in her abdomen wider and fresh blood was flowing from her side.

Rachel crawled quickly over to Jessie and with steady hands she put pressure on the wound. She turned to Nate to make sure he was all right and to tell him to get an ambulance here when her eyes widened in horror.

Nate was about to take a step toward Rachel to help her with Jessie when he saw her grab the detective's gun and bring it around on him. Stunned he looked into her hazel eyes like he had never seen her before.

"Rachel what are you doing?"

She didn't say anything, she simply fired. Nate flinched instinctively and felt the bullet go by his head. The man behind him screamed and in a daze the detective spun around to find Roland Garrison withering on the floor clutching his arm.

Next to his prostate form was knife he had been about to bury in Nate's back.

He blinked and felt his blood ran cold when he looked down at the hunting knife and recognized the intricate designs. Suddenly, McNamara's cryptic comments to him about Roland made perfect horrifying sense. Forgetting all about his broken ribs he bent down and with a snarl of rage he wretched the guy up by his injured arm and slammed him up against the wall.

"You son of a bitch."

The bodyguard screamed in agony.

Less than gently, Nate pulled Roland's injured arm behind his back and placed the cold steel ring of a handcuff on his wrist, making sure to accidentally punch the guy in his kidney before securing the other cuff.

The detective threw his cell phone to Rachel and told her to get an ambulance here for Jessie. She didn't need to be told twice. As far as Roland was concerned Nate was of the mind to let him bleed to death.

It was the knife, the same damn knife he had seen buried in his old partner's gut the long ago night in the Bayou.

The bodyguard was lucky Nate didn't have his gun or he would have killed him.


	7. Epilogue

It was finally over Rachel thought as she picked her son up and spun him around in her arms. The boy gave a squeal of pure delight as she hugged him and put him down again.

"Chase me mommy," he said, and darted off on unsteady legs toward the slide in Violet's old man's backyard.

She laughed as she watched her son got caught by Kevin. The handsome Australian picked him up and started galloping around the yard with him. She heard Violet laugh as she watched from the safety of the picnic table on the other side of the yard along with Cammie and Zoe. Lil was currently being cornered by her grandfather while he tried to finagle her into turning Coyote Ugly into an Irish pub.

The only person that wasn't here was the one she missed and needed the most. With a frown her mind drifted back to a couple days ago as she remembered what had happened after they had loaded Jessie into the ambulance.

_Rachel watched Nate warily as they loaded Jessie into the back of the ambulance. After the reinforcements had arrived Nate had caught her up in a hug that had conveyed all of the fear and worry he had been holding in since walking into McNamara's office. _

_Afterwards though, when everything had started to settle down he wouldn't even say two words to her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, found her courage, and asked._

_"What's wrong Nate?" He turned on her with narrowed eyes._

_"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. Of all the stupid things you could have done Rachel this has got to hit a new all time high." he growled._

_He clenched his fists and watched the ambulance disappear around a corner. He then turned blazing eyes on the woman next to him and scowled. Nate wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle her for putting them all in danger or kiss her for being alive._

_"What would you have had me do Nate? Just let McNamara get away with everything? Maybe it was stupid but I didn't see a whole lot of other options at the time," she defended._

_Frustrated he ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "That's because you weren't thinking Rachel. Don't you understand? You could have been killed." _

_Nate knew it was his bone numbing fear talking but he couldn't seem to help himself._

_"I didn't know what else to do. He was going to turn my son into a monster…and then there's you," she screamed. His eyes went wide and narrowed._

_"What about me?" _

_She hugged herself and turned away, unable to look at him._

_"Nate you almost died because of me, because of my ties to McNamara. I couldn't have lived with that and I knew that if we couldn't bring him down…I wasn't going to let him hurt you. I couldn't watch you die…I just couldn't."_

_He was quiet for a long moment and she tried to reach out and touch him. The minute her fingers grazed his arm he pulled away as if she had burned him. Rachel felt her heart break._

_"Rachel I can't…I can't deal with this right now. I'm a cop, a homicide detective, and you're telling me that you almost got yourself killed to protect me? I can't be worried about you every time I have a difficult case. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to me."_

_"What are you saying?" She asked and felt her anger spike. He frowned and she had to clench her fists to keep from hitting him. _

"_What the hell, Nate. Maybe we should just, oh I don't know, see other people, try to be friends? Which one is it Nate? Which one are you going to use to blow me off because you're scared of what might happen?" _

_He flinched and ran his hand through his hair again. _

_"This is the wrong time to have this discussion, cher," he warned._

_"This is the perfect time, but you know what? Let's not bother with it at all." She turned and started to walk away. An expression of shear panic crossed his features._

_"Rachel wait," he called, but she didn't stop walking. Nathan watched her with an expression of sorrow, hurt, and confusion, but he didn't go after her. He watched her walk away from him._

_He didn't go after._

_And he knew that he might not be able to fix the rift his irrational fear had just opened up between them. _

_Oh how she wanted him come after her, but it become apparent the closer she got to the black convertible that he wasn't going to move. Hugging herself she refused to look back, letting the silent tears fill the hole were her heart use to be._

Rachel was brought out of her dark thoughts by an arm around her shoulders. She turned her head to see Zoe looking at her with grave eyes.

"Uh-oh, I know that look, that's the, he hasn't called, he hasn't forgiven me yet, look,"

Rachel tried to grin but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"He isn't going to call Zoe. I just need to face the fact that he doesn't really feel the same way about me, as I do about him."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Honey that's not true. The problem is that he doesn't know how to deal with his own demons so he is blaming them on you. He'll come around. The real question is, will you take him back when he comes crawling?"

"I don't know Zo, I just don't know."

* * *

Nathan watched her from the shadows as she danced on the bar, setting things on fire and pumping up the crowd for a night of hardcore partying. It had been two weeks since they had sent Tony McNamara to a new location six feet under, two long weeks without seeing her and it was his own damn fault.

He had been running scared after what had happened with McNamara, paralyzed by the mind numbing fear he had felt when Tony had turned his gun on her. He knew that if he had had to watch Rachel die it would have killed him. He hadn't felt that kind of emotion since Elizabeth and he hadn't been sure if he could handle loving someone else like that.

Then there was the specter of Roland Garrison that he had still needed to purge from his soul. Realizing that Tony McNamara had been behind the death of his first love had shaken him more than he could have imagined.

Roland may have held the knife but Tony had held the leash and he had succeeded in taking Elizabeth away from him. It only made him more afraid of loving and losing Rachel. That is way he had practically ran from her after Jesse had been taken to the hospital.

It had take two weeks of soul searching to realize that no matter how hard he tried not to be, he was irrevocably in love with Rachel Barnes and it wasn't to go away.

"Are you going to just stare at her all night or are you going to go apologize."

Nate frowned and turned towards his partner. She was sitting in a wheelchair, grinning at him impishly. Jessie's husband, Eric, was standing behind her, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I'm working up to it," he growled. Jess's grin widened.

Nate mumbled something unkind and turned to the dark haired man behind her.

"I don't know how you put up with her, Eric."

Eric Leland smirked.

"I don't know how you are going to put up with, Rachel."

Nate scowled and sighed.

"You assume she's even gonna give me the time of day."

His gaze drifted back to the girl on the bar. He knew this wasn't going to be easy but with a determined expression settling over his features he steeled himself.

"Wish me luck," he mumbled.

His two friends smirked and he made his way to the bar.

The first person to see him was Lil. She smiled at him and he was grateful for it, but there was a warning in her eyes as she glanced at Rachel. Taking that as his cue to mean she was pissed at him for disappearing he winced. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Hey Nate, what can I get you?" she asked. He grinned and replied

"Anything that will give me a backbone and you had better make it a double."

She smirked at him like an executioner and poured him a double of something he couldn't identify. When he downed it in one gulp it left a trail of fire down his gut that made him think he had roasted all his internal organs. Lil graced him a wide, innocent smile when he started to cough.

"Do you need another?"

Eyes watering, he shook his head between hacks. When his capacity for speech returned he told Lil.

"Now I just need to borrow your bar and if you can, put a good word in for me with anyone who might be listening."

Lil stared at him not quite understanding what he meant and was stunned when pulled himself up on the bar. Rachel had been dancing on the other end when she suddenly turned around and saw him.

She stopped mid-step and faced him like an old west gunslinger. The crowd yelled for him to get off the bar but he ignored them. He smiled and she frowned, resting her hands on her hips and facing him with arms akimbo.

He swallowed nervously and turned to lean down and grab the mega-phone from Lil.

"Everyone shut the hell up. I've got something to say."

He screamed in the mega-phone; his southern drawl thick with nerves. Strangely enough, the bar fell silent. Everyone looked from him to Rachel and wondered if he knew he was about to die. He swallowed again, lowered the mega-phone, and turned to the woman currently glaring at him.

"I want everyone here tonight to know that I am the world's biggest asshole."

This caused a few people to chuckle, but Rachel continued giving him the evil eye. He forced his nerves down.

"A few weeks ago I did the stupidest thing I could ever have done. I walked away from the woman that I had fallen madly in love with. A woman who you all know could probably kick my sorry ass all the way back to Louisiana. So I decided to make a fool of myself, in front of witnesses so at least she might not kill me. What I really wanted to say though is this," he paused, and Rachel's eyes widened as he pulled out a small velvet box.

A mummer went through the crowd and Lil even gasped in surprise. He felt his confidence slip even more. He gathered his courage.

"Rachel Maria Barnes, I am madly in love with you. Marry me and make me the happiest son of a bitch on earth."

The bar was dead silent as they crowd waited to see what Rachel would say. Nate looked hopeful; at least he had, until she started walking towards him. He didn't see her right cross coming until it had caught him on his clean-shaven jaw and knocked him down, ass first, onto the scarred wood.

She fumed and waved her arms. "Of all the idiotic things to do you arrogant, inbred, asshole...and it sure took you long enough!"

Her eyes flashed in anger, but it was tempered with another emotion. Nate rubbed his jaw gingerly, grinned cockily, and said.

"So…is that a yes?"

Rachel grabbed him by his tie, hauled him up, and pulled his head down to her mouth to kiss him deeply. Their tongues warred with each other as all the passion, grief, loss, fire, hurt, hope, and love built up between them. Nate wasn't sure what knocked him for a loop more, the kiss or her right cross.

Finally the need for oxygen prevailed for both of them and they pulled apart gasping for breath.

"Will you marry me Rachel," he asked again and she smiled.

"Yes," she said and brushed her lips over his. It was his turn to smile.

"So you do love me then?"

She rolled her eyes and hit him in the shoulder playfully.

"Yes I love you…but you're still an egotistical prick."

He laughed and noticed that the crowd was now clapping and whistling. Lil was the loudest as she screamed her blessings in favor of the upcoming nuptials, but he only had eyes for Rachel.

"You know...you're still the kind of caste iron Yankee bitch my momma warned me about," he teased and covered her protest with another devastating kiss.

"And you're still an annoying boy scout who doesn't know when to take no for an answer."

He grinned and she smirked.

"God, I love you," he breathed. She sucked in a breath.

"I love you, too," she whispered and kissed him again.

When they separated this time they were both smiling. Nate knew, as he gazed into her hazel eyes, that this was right, this was real, and this was home. He'd tamed the wildest of all the coyotes and he planned on making her happy for as long as the good Lord saw fit to keep them together.

God, he really did love New York.


End file.
